DUKE 

UNIVERSITY 

LIBRARY 


^m"^ 


'^i& 


Treasure  ^om 


MEMOIRS 


OF 


STEPHEN  BURROUOHS 


TO  WHICH  .iBE  ADDED, 

NOTES, 

A,XD  AX 

AFPENBIX. 


When  such  sad  scenes  the  bosom  pain, 
What  eye  from  weeping  can  refrain. 


VOL.  J. 

ALBAXY: 
PUBUSHED  BY  B.  D   PACKARD,  Xo.  51  STATE-STREET 

H.  PACKARD,    PRINTER. 

1811. 


T 


4eC:?lt 


*j 


The  following  is  a  Lefte?'  from  the  Author  to  a 
Friend^  who  had  requested  a  Narrative  of 
his  Life, 

WASHINGTON,  25tli  JULY,  1794. 
DEAR  SIR, 

A  HE  uninterrupted  attention  of  your  polite- 
ness to  my  welfare  since  my  arrival  in  this  coun- 
try, is  a  sufficient  inducement  for  me  to  attend 
to  any  request  which  you  shall  barely  intimate. 
You  mentioned  yesterday,  whilst  I  was  enjoy- 
ing the  agreeable  society  of  your  family,  that 
a  relation  of  my  adventures  would  be  highly 
gratifying  at  some  convenient  time,  when  op- 
portunity would  serve.  You  say,  that  what 
had  come  to  your  knowledge  previous  to  any 
acquaintance  with  me, but  more  especially  vrhat 
has  occurred  since  my  residence  in  this  place, 
has  filled  you  v.i  h  an  almost  irresistible  anxie- 
ty to  be  made  acquainted  vrith  the  more  minute 
circumstances  of  a  life  which  has  been  filled 
with  so  many  curious  anecdotes  and  unheard  of 
occurrences.  I  fear  the  relation  will  poorly 
answer  your  expectations.  My  life,  it  is  true, 
has  been  one  continued  course  of  tumult,  revo- 
lution and  vexation ;  and  such  as  it  is,  I  will  give 
to  you  in  detail,  (in  this  method,  rather  than 
verbally,  it  being  more  convenient  to  peruse  it 
at  your  leisure,  than  to  listen  to  the  dull  tale  of 
egotisms  which  I  must  make  use  of  in  a  verbal 
relation.)  When  you  become  tired  Vv'ith  read- 
ing, you  will  be  under  no  necessity  of  holdinp; 
the  book  in  your  handfrom  the  feelings  of  deli- 


IV 


cacy,  but  can  lay  it  by  at  leisure.  This  liberty 
you  could  not  so  conveniently  take  with  a  dull 
reiater  of  a  more  dull  narrative.  You  say  my 
character,  to  you,  is  an  enigma  ;  that  I  possess 
an  uncommon  share  of  sensibility,  and  at  the 
same  time,  maintain  an  equality  of  mind  which 
is  uncommon,  particularly  in  the  midst  of  those 
occurrences  which  are  calculated  to  wound  the 
feelings.  I  have  learned  fortitude  in  the  school 
of  adversity.  In  draining  the  cup  of  bitterness 
to  its  dregs,  I  have  been  taught  to  despise  the 
occuiTcnces  of  misfortune.  This  one  thing  I 
fully  believe,  that  our  happiness  is  in  our  power 
more  than  is  generally  thought;  or  at  least,  we 
have  the  ability  of  preventing  that  misery  which 
is  so  common  to  unfortunate  situations.  No 
state  or  condition  in  life,  but  from  which  we 
may  (if  we  exercise  that  reason  which  the  God 
of  Nature  has  given  us)  draw  comfort  and  hap- 
piness. We  are  too  apt  to  be  governed  by  the 
opinion  of  others,  and  if  they  think  our  circum- 
stances unhappy,  to  consider  them  so  ourselves, 
and  of  course,  make  them  so.  The  state  of  the 
mind  is  the  only  criterion  of  happiness  or  mise- 
rv.  The  Cynic  Diogenes  was  more  happy  than 
the  Conqueror  Alexander,  and  the  Philosopher 
Socrates  more  happy  than  either.  They  all 
had,  undoubtedly,  passions  and  feelings  alike, 
which,  not  properly  regulated,  would  have  ren- 
dered them  equally  unhappy.  Yet,  whenever 
jcason  stood  at  helm,  the  vessel  was  brought 
iiilo  the  haven  of  peace. 


"^i^-  ^ 


MEMOIRS 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 


'4  -4  ■<   <  ■«S>^^>-  »■>••>• 


CHAP.  I. 

"•  l-'all  Avell  I  know  you ;  deeyj,  too  deep  engrav'cl 
"  On  memoiy's  tablet  your  rude  horrors  iive." 

iN  relating  the  facts  of  ray  life  to  you,  I  shall  endeavor 
to  give  as  simple  an  account  of  them  as  I  am  able,  without 
coloring  or  darkening  any  circumstances ;  ulthough  ihc 
relation  of  many  matters  will  give  me  a  cegrce  ai^d  kind  oi 
pain,  which  only  they  who  fcei  can  describe.  I  have  oftci- 
lamented  my  neglect  of  keeping  minutes  of  the  occurren- 
ces of  my  life,  from  time  to  time,  v/hen  they  were  fresh  in 
my  memory,  and  alive  to  my  feelings  ;  the  disadvantage 
of  which  I  now  feci,  when  I  come  to  run  over  in  my  mind 
the  chain  which  has  connected  the  events  toarether.  INIanv 
circumstances  are  entirely  lost,  and  many  miore  so  ob- 
scurely remembered,  that  I  shall  not  even  attempt  to  give 
them  a  place  in  this  account.  Not  to  trouble  you  with  any 
more  prefatory  remarks,  I  vriil  proceed  to  the  relation. 

I  am  the  only  son  of  a  clergyman,  living  in  Hanover,  i,i 
the  state  of  New-Hampshire ;  and,  were  any  to  expect 
merit  from  their  parentage,  I  might  justly  look  for  that 
merit.  But  I  am  so  far  a  republican,  that  I  consider  -j. 
man's  merit  to  rest  entirely  with  himself,  without  any 
regard  to  family,  blood,  or  connexion.  My  father  bein^j: 
a  Presbyterian  by  principle,  I  was  educated  in  all  the  lig- 
or  of  that  order,  v.hich  illy  suited  my  volatile,  impatien:; 
temperof  mind  ;  this  being  the  case,  my  first  entrance 
on  the  stage  of  life,  was  by  no  means  the  most  a-rrceubi''. 


6  MEMOIRS  OF 

?vly  thirst  for  amiisemcnt  wcs  insatiable,  and  as  in  niy  sit- 
aiion,  the  only  dependence  for  that  gratincation  "was  en- 
:;>ly  -vvithin   inyseif,  I   sought  it  in  pestering  others,  cs- 
cci..ily  those  Avho    were  my  superiors   in  age,   and  in 
laking  them  appear  in  a  ludicrous  situation,  so  as  to  raise 
AQ  laugh  at  their  expense,   and  partake  of  the   general 
ivcrsion,  which  such  a  m.atter  created.     My  success  in 
kose  undertakings  was  so  great,  that  I  became  the  terror 
i  the  people  where  I  lived,  and  ail  were  very  unaninious 
n  deciariiig,  that  Stephen  Burroughs  was  the  worst  boy 
in  town  ;  and  these  who  could  get  him  whipt  were  most 
worthy  of  esteem.     Their  attempts  to  bring  on  my  back 
.1  flagellation  were  often  very  successful,  for  m.y  heedless 
temper  seldom  studied  for  a  retreat,  when  I  was  fairly  in 
-li.nger  ;  however,  the  repeated  application  of  this  birchen 
niedieine  never  cured  my  pursuit  of  fun.     A  neighbour 
of  my  father,  an  old  man,  had  a  fine  yard  of  water-melon^i, 
which  had  been  purloined  by  somebody  for  three  or  four 
Nucceeding  nights  ;  the  old  man,  being  of  a  hasty,  petu- 
"..nt  disposition,  was  determined  to  watch  his  water-mel- 
ns,  with  a  club,   and  severely  beat  the  thief.     One  night 
'  e  took  his  SLri-nd*in  a  convenient  place  for  watching,  un- 
.uov.'R  to  any  one.     Accident  made   me  acqu^iinted  with 
ne  old  man's  situation,  and   suspecting  his  intention,   I 
v/ent  to  a  son  of  his,  a  young   man  of  about   twenty,   and 
•  old  hira  I  saw  a  man  in  the  water-melon   yard,  whom  I 
-  uspeetcd  to  be  the  tliief,  and  advised  him  to  go  cautious- 
ly to  the  yard,  and  peradvcnturc  he   might  catch  him. 
Accordingly  the  young  man  went ;  but  no  sooner  had  lie 
i;;ot  into  the  yard,  than  the  old  uian,   supposing  this  to  be 
•J-e  thief,  rushed  ficm  his  hiding  place,  and  attacked  his 
:  on  with  his  cli  b,  and  severely   handled  the   poor  fellow 
i^eforc  he  found  out  his  mistake  :  the  son,  supposing  the 
thief  was  beating  him,  bawled  out  to  his  father,  who,   he 
r:<pected   was   at  the  house,  murder  I   father  !   father  ! 
murder  1  murder  I  This  scene  of  merriment  I   enjoyed 
iO  the  ful!,  but  soon  paid  for  it  through  the  nose.     The 
i»lot  being  discovered,  ajid  the  agent  who  set  this  machine 
";a  molion  clearly  detected,  complaint  was  made,  and  I 
■  asied  of  the  s.  me  fco.l  I  had  so  ingeniously  cooked  foi' 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  7 

the  old  man's  son.  I  should  hardly  mention  the  insipid 
anecdotes  of  my  childish  years,  were  it  not  for  the  purpose 
of  shewing  how  those  small  occurrences  had  a  decided 
influence  in  giving  a  tone  to  the  character  which  I  sus- 
tain at  this  time,  and  in  directing  the  operations  of  my 
after  life.  So  much  do  the  greatest  events  depend  upon 
circumstances  so  minute,  that  they  often  pass  unobserved, 
and  consequently,  wrong  causes  are  attributed  to  the  ef- 
fects which  take  place.  Being  passionately  fond  of  infor- 
mation, I  embraced  all  opportunities  for  reading,  which 
my  desultory  life  would  admit,  and  unfortunately  many 
novels  fell  in  my  way,  of  that  kind,  which  had  a  direct 
tendency  to  blow  the  lire  of  my  temper  into  a  tenfold  rage. 
The  character  of  Guy,  Earl  of  Warwick,  was  my  favorite. 
I  felt  an  enthusiastic  ardor  to  tread  the  stage  on  which  he 
had  so  fortunately  exhibited.  I  often  viewed  myself  at 
the  head  of  armies,  rushing  with  impetuosity  into  the 
thickest  of  embattled  foes,  and  bearing  down  all  who 
dared  to  oppose  me.  Reading  and  dwelling  so  much  on 
those  romantic  scenes,  at  that  early  period  of  life,  when 
judgment  was  weak,  was  attended  with  very  pernicious 
consequences  in  the  operations  of  my  after  conduct.  No- 
thing gives  the  mind  of  childhood  a  more  unfavorable 
bias,  than  a  representation  of  those  unnatural  chai^cters 
exhibited  in  novels  and  romances.  It  has  a  direct  ten- 
dency to  lead  the  mind  from  the  plain  simple  path  of  na- 
ture, into  the  airy  regions  of  fancy  ;  and  when  the  mind  is 
once  habituated  to  calculate  on  the  romantic  system, 
error  and  irregularity  are  the  common  consequences. 
Likewise,  v/hen  a  man  is  long  habituated  to  think  erro- 
neously, we  can  hardly  expect  that  he  Avill  be  able  to  root 
out  the  first  unfavorable  sentiments  of  his  education.  I 
will  candidly  confess,  that  I  too  strongly  feel  the  truth  of 
this  doctrine,  even  to  this  day.  Permit  me  here  to  di- 
gress a  moment  from  the  narrative,  and  offer  a  remark  on 
education  for  your  consideration.  The  motives  of  the 
most  sincere  friendship  to  you  and  your  family  induce  mc 
to  do  it.  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  educating  youth  for 
seven  years,  constantly ;  in  the  course  of  my  but:iness,  I 
have   endeavored  to  study  the  operations  of  the  human 


8  MEMOIRS  OF 

heart,  that  I  might  be  able  to  afford  that  instruction  which 
v/oiild  be  sahitary ;  and  in  this,  I  find  one  truth  clearly 
established,  viz.  a  child  will  endeavor  tcr  t)e,  what  you 
?Tiake  him  think  mankind  in  general  are.  His  first  am- 
bition is  to  be  like  his  parents ;  he  soon  finds  that  his 
neighbours,  the  inhabitants  of  the  countiy,  nay,  the  world 
of  mankind,  are  to  be  his  associates  for  life,  and  to  whom 
it  is  necessary  for  him  to  recommend  himself,  in  order 
to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  their  society,  without  alloy  ;  he 
therefore  endeavors  to  assimulate  himself  to  the  charac- 
ter which  he  supposes  mankind  generally  possess. 
This  motive,  I  believe,  has  an  operation  more  or  less  on 
every  man.  If  these  remarks  are  just,  wdiich  I  think  no 
observing  man  will  deny,  how  evident  is  this  truth,  that 
a  child,  in  forming  his  own  character,  will  be  essentially 
directed  by  that  idea  which  you  instil  into  his  mind  re- 
specting mankind  ?  Give  him  an  idea,  that  the  inhabitants 
of  the  world  esteem  virtue,  integrity,  mildness,  and  mod- 
esty, and  that  the  contrary  are  obnoxious  to  them,  he  will 
be  most  likely  to  pursue  that  course  unremittingly.  Per- 
haps an  objection  may  arise  in  yonr  mind,  to  the  truth  of 
this  observation,  and  you  will  say,  it  often  happens  that 
those,  v/ho  are  the  most  strict  in  cultivating  principles  of 
integrity  in  tlie  minds  of  their  children,  are  disappointed 
in  their  endeavors  to  make  the  children  virtuous.  In 
answer  to  this  objection,  I  will  observe,  that  our  actions 
are  as  strong  a  language,  and  perhaps  stronger,  than  our 
words  ;  and  as  the  observations  of  children  are  extremely 
keen,  they  discover  at  once,  whether  our  words  and  our 
actions  speak  the  same  language  ;  and  when  they  find 
tbem  interfering,  they  immediately  conclude,  that  decep- 
tion is  the  object  of  the  parent,  and  not  sincerity,  that  he 
utters  words  that  he  does  not  believe  himself,  and  puts  on 
a  fiilse  appearance  to  ansv>er  some  sinister  end  ;  a  view  of 
which  insensibly  leads  the  child  into  the  practice  of  dis- 
simulation- The  ambition  in  children  of  becoming  like 
their  superiors,  rightly  directed,  is  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance, in  forming  them  such  as  they  ought  to  be.  To 
grant  a  child  your  approbation,  when  doing,  or  desiring  to 
do  right,  is  a  reward  which  he  will  ever  seek  after,  when. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  0 

he  thinks  it  within  his  reach  ;  therefore,  to  keep  that  re- 
ward uniformly  within  his  power,  is  a  matter  of  impor- 
tance ;  and  not,  by  indulging  a  petulent  disposition,  destroy 
or  render  doubtful  his  expectations  of  obtaining  what  he 
merits.  Here  you  establish  the  first  principles  of  justice 
in  his  mind,  upon  which  he  will  practice,  when  he  be- 
comes an  active  member  of  society.  As  the  child  advan- 
ces to  a  riper  state,  and  becomes  what  is  ge^^rally  termed 
a  youth,  he  feels  the  strength  of  his  disposition  for  assim- 
ulating  his  character  to  the  feelings  of  mankind  increase, 
and  he  will  adopt  such  measures  as  his  judgment  then 
dictates  ;  hence,  to  inform  his  judgment,  is  the  only  way 
to  make  him  capable  of  conducting  well ;  to  restrain  him., 
by  dictatorial  dogmas,  from  the  paths  of  error,  will  answer 
but  a  temporar)'  purpose  ;  until  he  learns  by  the  lesions 
of  reason,  or  by  the  more  feeling  effects  of  prudence,  he 
never  will  be  in  a  capacity  to  act  his  part  in  life  with  pro- 
priety. We  must  expect  to  find  many  errors  in  the  cal- 
culations of  youthful  years,  and  those  errors  ought  to  be 
pruned  by  the  most  careful  hand,  lest  the  harshness  of 
the  pruning  should  appear  to  the  subject  the  cruel  stroke 
of  an  enemy,  rather  than  the  gentle  touch  of  a  friend.  To 
censure  the  faults  of  youth  beyond  what  they  ought  to 
bear,  is  generally  attended  with  fatal  consequences.  It 
destroys  the  object  of  their  pursuit,  viz.  approbation  ; 
ihey  revolt  at  the  injustice,  which  they  sensibly  feel  ; 
therefore,  inflicting  unjust  punishment  is  generally  at- 
tended with  fatal  consequences  in  the  system  of  education. 
It  destroys  the  principles  of  equity  in  the  youthful  breast, 
and  s.ubstitutes  in  their  room,  the  despotic  principles  of 
tyranny.  This  cause  strongly  operates  in  society.  Hence, 
my  Lord  Hale,  with  great  pertinency  and  hrimr-nity  says, 
"  better  ten  guilty  escape,  than  one  innocent  person  suf- 
fer." I  have  often  seen  instances  v/here  the  ambition  of 
youth  to  do  well,  has  been  destroyed,  by  censuring  their 
fjults  with  too  much  seventy  ;  one  of  which  I  will  men- 
tion. I  once  taught  a  school  in  a  town  of  Massachusetts, 
I  y  the  name  of  Charlton.  Having  a  school  consisting  of 
eighty  members,  I  divided  them,  according  to  my  usual 
custom,  into  two  classes.     Mv  school,  at  this  time,  was 


10  MEMOIRS  OF 

entirely  regulated  according  to  my  mind,  and  in  the  most 
obedient  order,  greatly  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  parents 
of  the  children,  who  frequented  the  school.  Application 
was  made  to  me  at  this  time,  by  a  clergyman  in  the  vicin- 
ity, for  the  admission  of  his  son  into  the  school.  With 
great  difficulty  I  persuaded  the  committee,  who  had  the 
direction  of  admitting  members,  to  admit  him.  My  de- 
sire for  his  admission  sprang  from  the  same  cause  which 
the  committee's  aversion  did.  The  youth  v/as  fifteen  years 
of  age,  and  had  been  expelled  from  all  the  schools  in  the 
country,  consequently,  whatever  Dodge,  the  name  of  this 
youth,  was  concerned  in,  must,  in  the  opinion  of  people, 
be  adopted  from  a  wrong  motive.  Convinced  from  my 
own  feelings  under  similar  circumstances,  that  a  different 
line  of  conduct  towards  him,  from  what  had  been  observed, 
would  produce  a  different  effect,  I  was  desirous  of  trying 
the  experiment.  Accordingly,  when  he  came  to  my 
school,  I  intimated  to  him,  that  he  must  take  the  lead  of 
one  of  the  classes,  which  composed  the  school  ;  and  that 
1  expected  from  his  exertions  and  example,  his  class 
would  make  a  very  respectable  appearance.  I  endeavor- 
ed to  convince  him,  that  this  appointment  was  not  from 
design,  but  from  a  real  esteem  of  his  merit,  by  showing 
him  many  little  distinctions.  His  conduct,  for  about 
twelve  or  fourteen  days,  Avas  equal  to  my  most  sanguine 
expectations  ;  but  returning  from  dinner  one  day,  I  found 
the  school  in  an  uproar  at  the  conduct  of  Dodge,  who,  in 
my  absence,  had  gone  into  the  upper  loft  of  the  house, 
and  had  most  scandalously  insulted  some  young  women, 
who  were  at  the  back  side  of  the  school  house.  Com- 
phint  was  made  of  this,  with  all  the  exaggerations  which 
are  apt  to  attend  the  transgression  of  such  a  character. 
Dovlge  himself  was  present  at  the  time,  and  discovered 
that  mortification  in  his  countenance,  which  made  me  feel 
sensibly  affected  for  him.  I  treated  the  report  as  though 
I  could  not  believe  that  Dodge  had  conducted  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  render  it  possible,  that  the  thing  should  be 
as  represented;  that  some  mistake  must  have  existed, 
and  refused  to  pay  any  further  attention  to  it.  It  would 
have  bee:i  to  you,  sir,   a  matter  of  curiosity,  to  have  ob- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  1 1 

served  the  workings  of  the  countenance  of  Dodge  under 
this  trial ;  and  when  he  found  that  my  confidence  in  him 
was  yet  unshaken,  so  contrary  to  his  fears,  1  was  really 
afraid  he  would  have  fainted.  This  had  the  desired  effect. 
Never  had  I  one  in  my  school  who  conducted  better  after- 
wards, during  his  whole  continuance  with  me,  which  was 
about  a  year. 

I  would  not  wish  to  be  understood  that  a  relaxation  of 
discipline  is  ever  to  be  admitted  ;  on  the  contrary,  the 
most  uniform  course  of  this  administration  should  be  at- 
tended to,  without  the  least  deviation.  Our  commands, 
in  the  first  place,  ought  to  be  reasonable,  humane,  and 
parental,  calculated  to  promote,  not  only  the  good  of  the 
subject  of  our  government,  but  likewise  embracing  for 
their  object,  the  benefit  of  the  whole  community.  When 
the  commands  are  once  given,  never  ought  we  to  suffer 
a  breach  of  them  under  any  circumstances  whatever.  By 
such  a  practice  we  make  good  subjects,  good  legislators, 
and  good  executors.  By  these  means  we  habituate  our 
youth  to  submit  to  good  and  wholesome  laws,  without  be- 
ing in  danger  of  that  restless  turbulent  disposition,  which 
so  frequently  distracts  the  government  of  a  Commonwealth. 
We  likewise  make  them  good  legislators,  by  giving  them 
constant  examples,  in  our  mode  of  governing  them,  of  jus- 
tice, humanity,  and  parental  kindness ;  and  when  those 
principles  are  once  established  in  the  human  breast,  the 
governing  object  of  such  characters  will  be,  to  enact  and 
establish  such  laws  as  will  distribute  and  support  the  genu- 
ine and  real  principles  of  their  education.  They,  like- 
wise, will  make  men,  who,  in  their  executive  capacity, 
win  promote  the  highest  good  of  society,  by  uniformly 
adhering  to  an  undeviating  course  of  executing  laws  to 
which  they  are  appointed.  But  I  return  from  this  digres- 
sion to  the  narrative. 

CHAP.  II. 

■  Tis  education  forms  the  common  mind ; 
Just  as  the  twig-  is  bent,  the  tree's  inclin'd. 

JjEING  posse sse(J  with  the  most  romantic  ideas  of  mili- 
tary prowess,   I  longed  for  an  opportunity  of  signalizing 


12  MEMOIRS  OF 

myself  in  that  department,  and  consequently,  embraced 
the  first  opportunity  of  entering  into  the  military  line.  At 
this  time  a  regiment  of  the  continental  forces,  commanded 
by  Col.  Hazen,  were  marching  through  the  country  where 
I  lived,  and  I,  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  enlisted  into  an  artil- 
lery company  attending  the  regiment,  as  a  private  soldier. 
This  circumstance  soon  coming  to  the  knowledge  of  my 
father,  he  applied  to  the  officer  under  whom  I  had  enlist- 
ed, and  obtained  my  discharge.  Chagrined  and  disap- 
pointed at  this  unexpected  repulse,  I  concluded  that  all  my 
prospects  for  fame  were  at  an  end,  knowing  of  no  other 
opportunity  by  which  I  could,  probably,  introduce  myself 
into  the  military  department.  The  regiment  were  on  a 
march,  which  took  them  about  six  weeks,  and  returned 
through  Hanover  again,  on  their  way  to  head-quarters. 
While  they  lay  encamped  in  this  town,  about  five  miles 
from  my  father's  house,  I  began  to  consider  the  probabil- 
ity of  joining  them  again  ;  thmking  that  should  I  neglect 
this  opportunity,  all  my  future  prospects  in  life  were  at  an 
end.  After  revolving  this  subject  some  time  in  my  mind, 
I  came  to  a  resolution  to  elope  from  my  father,  about  the 
-time  the  regiment  were  to  march,  and  go  off  with  them. 
Report  said  they  were  to  march  on  lilonday  morning, 
therefore,  that  was  the  time  fixed  in  my  mind  to  leave  my 
father's  house.  On  the  Sunday  preceding  the  time  of 
their  march,  my  father  was  absent,  on  a  change  with  a 
neighboring  minister,  and  so  produced  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity for  the  execution  of  my  plan.  On  some  pretended 
ca«se,  I  tarried  from  church  that  day,  in  order  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  making  those  arrangements  which  I 
thought  necessary  to  equip  myself  for  a  soldier.  Accord- 
ingly, 1  took  a  bed  blanket  and  tied  it  full  of  clothes  aod 
provisions,  not  knowing  that  I  should  ever  be  provided 
with  either  by  the  public.  My  provision  consisting  of 
bread  and  cheese,  that  being  the  only  kind  which  was 
ready  cooked,  would  best  answer  my  purpose.  All  this 
baggage,  together  with  an  old  musket,  belonging  to  my 
'  father^  powder-horn  filled  with  powder,  and  thirty  balls,  I 
laid  by  in  a  convenient  place  until  the  important  moment 
should  arrive.     About  the  dawn  of  day,  on  Monday  morn- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  lo 

ing,  I  placed  myself  under  the  enormous  load,  contained 
in  the  blanket,  after  being  accoutred  with  powder-horn 
and  musket,  and  pursued  my  wav  with  great  energy  to  the 
camp,  where  I  arrived  a  little  after  sunrise.  My  appear- 
ance in  camp,  in  this  ludicrous  plight,  was  an  object  of 
univei^al  curiosity  and  amusement.  Sweating  under  an^ 
enormous  load  of  bread  and  cheese,  brandishing  the  old 
family  musket  of  my  father's,  accoutred  with  a  due  quan- 
tity of  powder  in  a  horn,  by  my  side,  and  a  sufficiency  of 
ball  in  my  pocket  to  kill  thirty  men,  if  rightly  directed,  I 
made  the  appearance  of  more  than  Quixotic  bravery.  Sure- 
ly the  knight  of  La  Mancha,  had  he  seen  me  in  my  pres- 
ent plight,  vv'ould  have  dismounted  from  the  mcSt  re-^ 
doubtable  Rozinante,  and  would  have  yielded  to  me  the. 
palm  of  chivalry,  as  the  most  accomplished  knight  on 
the  sod. 

These  first  dawnings  of  resolution  and  perseverance, 
which  were  manifested  in  this  ridiculous  essay,  I  found 
were  pleasing  to  the  officer,  under  whom  I  had  formerly 
enlisted  ;  to  whom  I  again  applied  for  admission  into  his 
company,  but  previously  declared,  that  I  would  not  again 
enlist  with  him,  unless  he  would  engage  not  to  discharge 
me  if  my  father  should  pursue  me.  The  regiment  did 
not  march  till  near  the  middle  of  the  day,  much  to  my  dis- 
appointment, and  I  received  the  disagreeable  intelligence 
thai  my  father  had  arrived  in  camp  previous  to  their 
march. 

The  resoluuon  of  my  officer,  who  was  a  man  of  feeling, 
was  not  proof  against  the  solicitations  of  my  father.  He 
again  discharged  me,  and  my  father  took  me  home.  As 
the  obstacles  to  my  joining  the  army  increased,  my  reso- 
lution lo  surmount  them  gained  strength,  and  my  anxiety 
for  this  purpose  had  risen  to  such  a  degree,  that  I  deter- 
mined to  elope  the  first  minute  I  was  from  under  my  fa- 
ther's eye,  and  follow  the  regiment.  All  that  day  and 
night  I  was  guarded  with  the  utmost  attention.  About 
ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  I  v»^as  sent  on  an  errand  to 
the  next  neighbor's,  about  the  distance  of  ten  rods.  When 
I  had  gotten  that  distance,  I  ran  with  all  my  might,  and 
never  stopped  until  I  had  run  twenty-eight  miles  from 


14  MEMOIRS  OF 

home,  where  I  overtook  the  regiment.  There  I  enlisted 
Vr'ith  another  officer,  determined  not  to  be  dismissed  again 
by  my  former  misplaced  confidence.  I  had  not  been  here 
long  before  my  father,  vath  two  other  men,  came  full  tilt 
after  me.  Being  somewhat  doubtful  whether  I  should 
again  be  discharged,  I  determined  to  make  my  own  safety 
by  flight,  but  the  men  who  were  with  my  father,  observ- 
ing my  operations,  pursued  and  overtook  me  after  some 
little  difficulty.  However,  the  officer  under  v.hom  I  had 
enlisted  absolutely  refused  to  discharge  me,  unless  I  gave 
my  consent.  Accordingly,  my  father  njade  application  to 
me,  for  my  approbation  in  the  matter.  This  was  a  new 
scene  ;  to  view^  my  parent  before  me  a  supplicant,  be- 
seeching me  to  return  with  him  ;  stating  to  my  view,  the 
situation  of  a  disconsolate  mother,  the  most  affectioiiate 
of  parents  ;  the  yearnings  of  his  own  feelings  of  compas- 
sion towards  me,  and  the  unhappy  situation  to  which  they 
should  all  be  reduced,  should  I  still  persist  in  my  desper- 
ate resolution  of  leaving  them ;  this  v/as  a  situation  too 
alTecting  for  me  to  bear.  A  flood  of  contending  passions 
rushed  on  my  mind.  To  return  from  the  fxrst  attempt 
for  military  fame,  before  I  had  fairly  set  out,  after  formi- 
ing  such  strong  resolutions  to  the  contrary,  appeared  to 
me  pusillanimous  and  foolish.  On  the  other  hand,  to  break 
through  all  the  ties  of  nature,  compassion  and  benevolence, 
was  what  my  soul  sickened  at  viewing.  One  moment  I 
v/as  determined  on  going,  at  the  next  I  M'as  for  returning. 
No  permanent  resolution  could  I  form  till  the  next  morn- 
ing, when  the  revallee  being  beaten,  all  the  feelings  of 
military  ardor  were  again  rekindled,  and  I  was  determin- 
ed to  march.  My  father  finding  my  resolution  fixed,  took 
a  most  solem.n  and  affecting  leave.  This  scene  I  cannot 
reflect  upon  without  feeling  the  weakness  of  a  woman. 

The  night  following,  when  the  hurry  of  contending  pas- 
sions had  subsided,  and  I  had  full  leisure  for  taking  a  re- 
trospective view  of  those  very  singular  transactions,  they 
filled  my  mind  with  the  severest  conipunctions.  To  view 
my  parent  returning  to  a  disconsolate  family,  laden  v/ith . 
sorrow,  whilst  I  had  been  deaf  to  all  the  calls  of  nature  and 
compassion,  were  circumstances  wiiich  tilled  me  with  the 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  15 

keenest  sensation  of  distress ;  and  the  night  following  T 
was  not  able  to  dose  my  eyes  to  sleep,  such  were  the  agi- 
tations of  my  mind. 

There  I  determined  to  return  to  my  father,  notwith* 
standing  all  the  mortifying  circumstances  which  would 
attend  such  a  procedure.  Early  the  next  morning,  a  cler- 
gyman, by  the  nam.  e  of  Olcott,  came  to  me,  to  persuade 
me  to  return  to  my  father.  This  he  found  no  difficult 
matter  to  do.  I  told  him  frankly  I  was  willing  :  but  when 
he  m.ade  application  to  my  officer  for  a  discharge,  he  was 
flatly  refused.  AVe  marched  from  thence  to  head-quar- 
ters, at  West-Point,  without  meeting  with  any  occurren- 
ces worth  relating. 

When  the  regiment  had  arrived  en  the  North  River, 
they  were  constantly  alarmed  by  the  enemy,  and  had  a 
number  of  skirmishes  with  them.  At  such  times  I  v/as 
always  kept  back  with  the  baggage,  and  never  suffered  to 
go  into  action,  notwithstanding  all  my  entreaty.  I  fully 
believe,  had  I  been  indulged  in  my  romantic  disposition,  I 
should  have  rushed  foolishly  into  that  danger,  from  which 
I  never  should  have  returned.  These  repulses  brought 
about  that  mortification  and  disappointment  which  cured 
me  of  my  mtilitary  ardor.  Filled  with  resentment  and 
chagrine,  I  suddenly  left  the  army  and  returned  home  to 
my  father.  Soon  after  my  return,  my  father  wrote  the 
following  letter  to  Genera)  Washington  for  my  discharge, 
and  sent  it  by  the  hand  of  the  honorable  Bezaleel  Wood- 
ward, Esq.  who  was  then  on  his  way  to  Congress,  frcri 
the  state  of  New-Hampshire. 

'■^  Huno-osr^  J\\  Hainpshire,  Dec.  24..  1779. 
^^  Much  hosored  sir^ 

*'  These  wait  on  your  excellency  to  inform,  that  while 
Col.  Hazen's  regiment  remained  at  Coos,  Lieut.  Crowley, 
an  officer  of  the  train,  meeting  vvith  my  son,  ayoung  lad  of 
the  age  of  fourteen  years,  persuaded  him  to  enlist  into  his 
company  ;  with  some  difficulty  I  obtained  his  release  from 
that  enlistment.  But  the  young  lad  having  had  his  mifid 
inflamed  by  many  fair  promises  and  airy  encouragements, 
with  unappeasable  desires  to  join  the  service,  afterv/ards 


-16  MEMOIRS  OF 

eloped  frohi  me,  and  enlisted  under  Capt.  Lloyd,  on  the 
regiment's  return  from  these  parts  to  hec.d-quarters.  But 
finding  his  expectations  disappointed,  he  left  the  army 
soon  after  its  arrival  at  head-quarters,  and  is  now  at  home 
with  me.  As  a  sovereign  God  has  not  long  since  depriv- 
ed me  of  four  children,  a«d  has  left  me  but  two  to  survive 
their  death  ;  and  as  this  son  is  a  lad  so  much  under  the 
age  that  is  commonly  deemed  necessary  to  constitute  a 
soldier 'fit  for  the  service,  and  as  I  had  ever  designed  him 
for  a  public  education,  your  excellency  will  please  to  in- 
dulge my  request,  that  he  may  be  discharged  from  the  ser- 
vice. Though  I  have  the  cause  of  America  sincerely  at 
heart,  and  ever  have,  and  trust  ever  shall  exert  myself  to 
the  utmost  of  my  ability  in  its  behalf;  yet  your  excellency 
will  not  wonder  at  any  degree  of  reluctance  in  me,  against 
my  son's  engaging  in  the  ser\-ice  under  my  present  cir- 
cumstances. Your  excellency  will  please  to  signify  your 
pleasure  by  the  bearer,  and  due  obedience  shall  be  ren- 
dered to  your  commands  with  cheerfulness.  With  daily 
prayers,  that  the  God  of  armies  will  be  you-r  shield  and 
friend,  and  honor  your  excellency  as  an  instrument,  of 
complete  salvation  and  deliverance  to  the  United  States 
of  America,  I  am  your  excellency's 

Most  obedient  humble  servant, 

EDEN  BURROUGHS. 
His  Excellency  Geop.ge  Washington,  Esq. 

P.  S.     During  the  time  my  son  was  in  the  army,  he 
never  passed  muster,  nor  drew  any  bounty  or  clothing." 


CHAP.  III. 

Scenes  of  my  youth  !  pa.le  sorrow  fllng-s 
A  shude  o'er  v.W  yoiu'  beauties  uow ; 
And  robs  the  mon;enls  of  their  v/ing's, 
I'Lat  scatter  pleasures  as  tliey  flow. 


s 


OON  after  this  my  father  placed  me  at  school  under 
the  tuition  of  the  hUc   Joseph   iluntington,   D.  D.  whuie 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  \7 

fame  for  an  instructor  was  very  noted  throughout  all  Ihc 
New-England  States  ;  where  I  continued  one  year,  and 
was  then  removed  to  Dartmouth  College,  of  which  I  be- 
came a  member. 

Whilst  I  was  with  Doctor  Huntington,  many  of  those 
boyish  pranks  which  students  are  apt  to  practice,  in  order 
to  give  themselves  the  tone  of  wits,  were  performed  by 
me  to  the  no  small  diversion  of  myself  and  the  other  stu- 
dents, and  to  the  great  hindrance  of  my  pursuit  in  literary 
acquirements.  This  was  the  hour  of  folly.  »om  the 
effect  of  this  age  flowed  a  continued  stream  of  crude,  un- 
digested whims,  which  kept  the  school  and  myself  in  a 
constant  uproar.  I  became  an  inmate  in  the  family  ot 
my  preceptor,  which  consisted  of  the  Doctor,  ISIrs.  Hunt- 
ington, two  sons  by  a  former  wife,  nearly  my  ov/n  age, 
and  a  number  of  small  children,  how  many  I  do  not  re- 
collect. The  Doctor  himself  was  a  character  whose  par- 
allel is  not  commonly  found.  A  man  of  veiy  considerable 
oratorical  abilities,  which  consisted  more  in  smooth  fig- 
ures, and  ingenious  declamation,  than  in  close  metaphys- 
ical reasoning.  A  mind  by  no  means  tied  down  to  estab- 
lished modes  and  forms,  but  internally  despising  them  ; 
possessing  an  unbounded  amxbition  ;  fond  of  flattery.  A 
temper,  when  undisturbed,  philanthropic,  but  disappoint- 
ment and  chagrine  changed  it  into  the  boisterous  rage  of 
a  northwest  whirlwind.  Mrs.  Huntington,  a  character 
truly  amiable.  Joseph,  second  son  to  the  Doctor,  after 
his  owii  name,  about  one  year  younger  than  myself.  This 
youth  was  truly  the  son  of  his  father.  The  fire  of  his  am- 
bition was  great ;  his  resolution  was  equal  to  his  ambi- 
tion ;  and  his  eccentricity  was  equal  to  both  ;  with  a 
strong  mind,  equal  to  his  father,  he  despised  the  shackles 
of  education,  broke  through  all  the  little  obstacles  of  vul- 
gar prejudice,  and  pursued  those  paths  to  which  the  fire 
of  genius,  and  the  want  of  judgment  at  that  time  directed 
him.  The  rest  of  the  family  had  nothing  uncommon  in 
their  characters  which  distinguished  them  from  mankind 
in  general. 

Being  full  of  vivacity,  Joseph  and  I  were  almost  per- 
petually prosecuting  some  scene  of  amusenieiit  or  cilvc. 
B    2 


13  MEMOIRS  OF 

LJon.  Some  cf  these  pastimes  were  graduated  upon  u. 
^.'vjile  of  innocence,  and  some,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  embraced 
for  their  object  the  vexation  and  detriment  of  the  neigh- 
bors. Our  chief  force  M'as  aimed  at  a  neighbor,  com- 
monly known  by  the  name  of  Tyger,  on  account  of  his 
morose  misanthropic  disposition.  One  night  we  repaired 
\o  his  house  t.nd  took  logs  from  his  wood  pile,  about  two 
feet  in  length,  and  piled  them  up  against  his  door,  until 
they  reached  the  top,  laying  them  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
incline  into  the  house.  After  arranging  matters  in  this 
c.rder,  v,e  made  a  noise  as  if  attempting  to  get  into  the 
c'd  man's  garden,  sufficiently  loud  for  him  to  hear  ;  im^- 
mediately  upon  this  the  old  man  crept  softly  to  the  door, 
Wid  opening  it  suddenly,  down  came  the  logs  so  rapidly  as 
tc  knock  Lim  to  the  floor,  and  cover  him  over.  The  noise 
v*hich  this  made  alarmed  the  family  universally,  with  cUi 
idea  thu  they  felt  the  shock  of  an  earthquake,  and  that 
the  last  judgment  had  arrived,  which  set  some  a  scream- 
ing and  some  a  pruying,  and  for  a  long  time  these  ideas  so 
wholly  occupied  the  minds  of  the  family,  that  the  old  man 
could  not  get  any  assistance  from  the  load  of  timber,  un- 
der which  he  was  buried.  Immediately  upon  his  being 
freed  from  his  confinement,  he  put  on  some  clothes  and 
repaired  to  Doctor  Huntington'?:,  in  order  to  enter  a  com- 
plaint against  Joseph  and  myself,  whom  he  suspected  of 
being  the  agents  in  this  dis.igreeable  scene  ;  and  the  rea- 
soa  of  his  suspicion  was  founded  in  this,  viz.  but  a  fevv- 
days  before,  Joseph  and  I  were  caught  by  him,  picking 
s^ome  early  apples  off  a  tree  in  his  garden  ;  a  complaint  of 
which  was  made,  and  we  obliged  to  pay  three  shillings. 
But  as  we  v.  ere  seen  to  go  to  bed  that  niglit  and  found  in 
bed  when  he  came  with  this  last  complaint,  and  no  evi- 
dence that  \f  e  had  left  our  bed,  it  was  concluded  that  hiij 
suspicions  wanted  proof,  and  there  this  matter  ended. 

Soon  after  this,  we  contrived  another  plan  to  disturb  th.c 
old  man's  quiet.  Joseph  went  to  him,  and  with  a  woful 
countenance  professed  his  sorrovv"-  for  his  having  given 
iiim  trouble,  and  in  order  to  evince  his  sorrow,  told  him 
I.e  had  to  inform  of  an  intention  of  some  of  the  scholars  to 
lob  his  apple  trees  that  niglit,  and  advised  him  to  watch, 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  10 

that  he  might  detect  them  ;  and  if  he  should,  they  would 
have  to  pay  him  a  considerable  sum  of  money.  This  bait 
the  old  man  eagerly  swalloM'ed,  and  took  his  stand  accord- 
ingly for  watching. 

The  other  part  of  this  contrivance  I  was  to  act  myself, 
as  being  the  best  fitted  fei*  it,  on  account  of  my  superior 
agility.  Accordingly,  about  ten  at  night,  I  crept  along- 
close  to  the  garden  fence  till  I  came,  as  though  by  acci- 
dent, near  to  the  old  man,  at  which  I  turned  and  ran,  and 
he.  after  me.  Being  able  abundantly  to  out-run  him,  I 
kept  but  a  very  small  distance  before  him,  pretending  to 
run  with  all  my  might,  in  order  to  raise  his  expectations 
of  beiig  able  to  overtake  me  ;  when  coming  to  the  edge 
of  a  ditch,  which  contained  about  three  feet  depth  of  mud 
and  filth,  I  clapped  down  on  my  hands  and  knees  before 
the  old  man,  and  he  stumbled  over  me  plump  into  the 
ditch  ;  but  cathing  hold  of  the  skirt  of  my  coat,  tore  it  off 
and  carried  it  into  the  ditch  with  him.  This  was  a  clue 
which  served  the  next  day  to  unravel  the  plot  in  part,  as 
it  related  to  me ;  and  when  complaint  was  made  to  our 
Preceptor,  he  acquitted  us  entirely,  as  not  having  done  any 
thing  unlawful,  nor  having  attempted  it  according  to  tho 
proof. 

This  was  a  scene  of  great  diversion  to  the  Doctor.  The 
v/oful  countenance  which  Tyger  made  about  falling  intcv 
the  ditch,  together  with  my  strutting  about  without  a 
skirt  to  my  coat,  altogether,  made  so  ludicrous  an  appear* 
ance,  that  notv/ithstanding  all  the  exertion  of  the  Doctor, 
he  could  not  suppress  the  rising  inclination  to  laugh,  but 
would,  once  in  a  while,  burst  forth  in  spite  of  himself.  ^  Not 
long  after  this  I  had  intelligence  of  the  death  of  an  only 
brother  by  a  letter  from  my  father  to  the  Doctor,  a  copy 
of  the  answer  to  which  is  as  follows  : 

"  Coventry^  (Con.)  20th  jYov,  1780. 
''  Rev.  AyD  vert deap.  sir, 

"  In  your  great  affliction  I  am  afflicted  ;  and  the  sight 
of  your  letter,  with  the  melancholy  tidings,  made  a  very 
deep  impression  upon  my  heart.  I  have  several  times 
lasted  of  the  bitter  cup  ;  may  \Ye  leara  to  live  Vv-holly  on 


20  MEMOIRS  OF 

Gocl.  If  our  houses  are  not  so  with  him  as  wc  naturally 
wish,  and  do  not  grow  and  flourish  agreeably  to  our  fond 
hopes  ;  yet  there  is  an  everlasting  covenant,  ordered  in  all 
things,  and  sure  ;  let  this  be  all  our  salvation,  and  all  our 
desire.  Dear  sir,  I  condole  with  you  and  Mrs.  Burroughs 
in  this  furnace  of  affliction,  and  our  prayers  for  each  other, 
I  doubt  not,  are  mutual.  With  regard  to  Stephen,  he 
behaves  well,  and  makes  good  progress  in  his  learning  ; 
seems  well  contented  :  we  take  the  same  care  of  him  as  of 
of  our  own  children,  as  to  everything  he  stands  in  need  of. 
I  am  glad  to  see  that  he  takes  serious  notice  of  the  death  of 
his  dear  brother.  I  have  done,  and  shall  do,  all  in  my  pow- 
er that,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  he  may  make  a  good  im- 
provement of  it,  and  be  a  spiritual  gainer  by  so  great  a  loss. 
You  know  how,  dear  sir,  to  leave  your  nov/  only  son  with 
Ood,  as  well  as  all  your  other  concerns,  for  time  and  eter- 
nity. While  Stephen  is  with  me,  be  assured  that  I  will  be 
as  kind  and  faithful  a  parent  to  him  as  I  am  capable.  But 
alas  I  what  are  friends,  children,  or  any  of  the  dying  en- 
joyments of  this  transitory  world  I  had  you  not  a  better 
portion,  you  would  be  very  unhappy ;  but  you  can  say 
with  the  Prophet,  "  although  the  fig  tree  shall  not  blos- 
som—.'* 

^''  May  Mrs.  Huntington's  sincere  love  and  sympathetic 
condolence,  together  with  mine,  be  acceptable  to  Mr.  Bur- 
roughs and  his  lady.  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  my  dear  sir, 
»vith  great  respect. 

Your  m.ost  obedient,  humble  servant, 

JOSEPH  HUNTINGTON. 
Rev.  Mr.  Burroughs." 

As  it  is  a  custom  generally  through  the  state  of  Con- 
necticut to  keep  Saturday  evenings  as  the  commencement 
of  holy  tim^e,  and  consequently,  to  consider  Sunday  as  ex- 
piring with  the  beginning  of  the  succeeding  evening,  the 
relation  of  the  following  circumstance  will  not  be  so  much 
wondered  at. 

One  Sunday,  after  sunset,  a  number  of  the  Doctor's 
students  had  assembled  in  the  street,  and  were  somewhat 
i^oisy  about  -x  pastime  by  which  they  were  amusing  them- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  21 

selves.  This  noisy  merriment  appeared  to  the  Doctor  to 
be  mistimed,  when  exhibited  in  the  street,  at  so  great  a 
proximity  with  the  Sunday  ;  and  therefore,  he  wished  us 
to-desist  from  pursuing  our  sport  in  the  street,  and  attend 
to  it  in  the  door-yard  ;  telling  us  we  might  do  any  thing 
in  the  yard,  if  we  would  not  make  any  noise  in  the  street. 
We  accordingly  all  came  into  his  yard,  and  began  our 
amusement  again  ;  but  soon  stopped  by  an  idea  being 
suggested  of  the  great  liberty  which  the  Doctor  had 
granted  us,  of  doing  any  thing  in  his  yard.  His  office  of 
necessity  stood  within  the  limits  of  the  yard  ;  therefore,  it 
was  proposed,  and  immediately  agreed,  to  upset  this  build- 
ing. 

Dr.  Huntington  rising  very  early  the  next  morning,  ac- 
cording to  his  usual  custom,  saw  the  destruction  of  his 
little  house.  On  making  inquiry  of  the  scholars,  they  all 
denied  that  they  knev/  how  the  house  came  to  be  overset, 
until  he  came  to  me,  and  said,  "  Bun'oughs,  do  you  know 
how  the  little  house  was  turned  over  ?"  "  Yes,  sir." — 
"  Well,  who  turned  it  over  ?"  "  We,  who  were  at  play, 
last  evening,  in  the  yard."  How  came  you  to  turn  it  o- 
ver  ?"  "You  said,  sir,  we  might  do  any  thing  in  the  yard." 
The  Doctor  said  no  more  ;  went  down  ;  procured  some 
hands  ;  and  replaced  the  necessary  on  its  former  founda- 
tion. Not  long  after  t^s,  the  Doctor  wrote  the  followhig 
letter  to  my  father. 

«  Coventry,  (Con.)  March  8thj  1781. 
"  Reverend  and  dear  sir, 

"  You  and  your  lady  will  please  to  accept  our  best  re- 
gards :  no  doubt  the  welfare  of  your  only  son  lies  near 
both  your  hearts  :  he  is  Vv'ell  ;  has  a  fine  genius,  makes 
swift  advances  in  the  classics.  There  is  in  him  such  an 
exuberance  of  life  and  spirits,  as  requires  uncommon  vig- 
iknce  and  care  in  the  oversight  and  direction  of  jiis  ways, 
in  this  early  period  of  life,  v/hich  however,  I  trust  may  in 
future  time  make  him  so  mivch  the  more  active  and  use- 
ful in  the  sevvice  of  God  and  his  country.  I  hope  he  will 
pass  a  good  examination  at  the  next  commencement,  if 
you  choose  he  should  enter  ColleQ:e.     At  his  ov/n  earnest 


22  MEMOIRS  OF 

request,  he  boards  about  a  mile  and  an  half  from  my  house, 
•with  a  young  man  a  little  older  than  he  ;  I  have  thought 
proper  to  dispense  with  the  distance  of  way,  in  considera- 
tion that  the  family  and  whole  vicinity  are  attached  to  re- 
ligion, virtue,  and  good  order,  more  than  any  other  neigh- 
borhood in  this  place,  and  more,  almost,  than  ever  I  knew 
any  where  in  the  world.  Mr.  Wright  lives  next  door  to 
him ;  he  and  all  the  neighbors  have  a  great  respect  for 
you,  and  unite  in  every  friendly  effort  for  the  best  interest 
of  your  son.  T  often  tell  him.  however,  that  he  may  return 
and  board  with  me  whenever  he  is  willing  ;  mean  v/hile,  I 
take  the  same  care  of  all  his  wants  as  though  he  was  in  my 
ov/n  house. 

"  Such  are  the  times  with  us,  sir,  that  the  support  of 
those  ministers  who  live  by  the  penny,  without  farms,  is 
one  half  curtailed,  even  among  parishes  that  do  the  best 
for  them,'  and  if  such  times  continue,  I  must  give  my  sons 
their  education  at  home.  I  hope,  however,  in  the  good 
providence  of  God,  they  will  live  to  have  the  benefit  of 
Dartmouth  College. 

"  What  we  can  do  for  your  son  in  the  family,  is  left 
wholly  to  your  generosity  ;  and  indeed,  v/as  my  income  as 
in  years  past,  the  whole  expense  I  should  look  upon  not 
worthy  of  any  account.  Rest  assured,  sir,  that  the  best 
interest  of  your  son  is  daily  consulted,  to  the  utmost  of  my 
ability,  and  I  hope  and  trust  that  his  parents  and  his  coun- 
try will  rejoice  in  his  honor  and  usefuhiess  in  days  to  come. 

"  I  am,  dear  sir,  with  great  affection  and  respect, 
"  Your  most  obedient  humble  servant, 

JOSEPH  HUNTINGTON. 
Rev.  Mr.  Burroughs." 

Sometime  after  this,  boarding  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  the  Doctor's,  with  another  lad  nearly  of  my  own  age, 
we  took  an  old  horse  that  ran  in  the  road,  and  mounted 
him,  as  we  were  going  to  school,  without  saddle  or  bridle, 
and  rode  him  through  the  street  full  tilt.  This  circum- 
stance becoming  known,  the  owner  of  the  horse  applied  to 
a  justice  of  the  peace  and  obtained  a  warrant  for  us,  and 
being  taken,  were  brought  before  him  and  fined,  together 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  23 

M  ith  the  cost,  fifteen  dollars  ;  the  owner  having  summon- 
ed twenty  witnesses  to  prove  one  fact.  Soon  after  this  I 
returned  to  my  father,  and  brought  the  following  letter 
from  the  Doctor  to  him. 

"  Coventry^  (Con,)  Se/it.  5th,   1781. 
"  Reverend  sir, 

"  On  examination,  I  trust  you  will  find  your  son  well 
accomplished  to  perform  the  exercises  of  a  freshman  at 
college ;  with  constant  study  I  think  he  is  able  to  do  it 
better  than  freshmen  in  general  did  at  Yale  College  in  my 
day.  I  have  done  every  thing  in  my  power  for  his  educa- 
tion and  his  morals,  and  am  exceedingly  grieved  to  ac- 
quaint you,  that  one  affair  has  happened  since  I  last  wrote 
to  you,  which  must  be  uncomfortable  to  his  parents,  as  in- 
deed it  has  been  to  me. 

"  Stephen  was  so  unguarded,  about  the  middle  of  June 
last,  as  to  take  and  use  ahorse  several  times,  and  that  even 
in  a  cruel  manner,  withcret  the  knowledge  of  the  owner, 
Avho  lived  not  in  my  parish,  but  in  the  vicinity,  near  the 
borders  of  it :  the  ov-ner  of  the  horse  happens  to  be  one  of 
the  most  inhuman,  cruel,  revengeful,  spiteful  monsters 
that  ever  disgraced  humanity  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  found  out 
the  matter,  he  was  wholly  bent  on  vengeance  and  the  ut- 
most cruelty.  I  took  and  pastured  the  horse  eight  weeks, 
and  repaired  all  damage  more  than  seven  fold  ;  I  also  of- 
fered the  man  two  crowns  if  he  would  settle  the  matter 
without  a  law  suit,  and  took  every  other  step  I  could  think 
of  to  save  expense  and  prevent  a  public  noise;  but  all  in 
vain.  The  monster  knew  that  the  law  in  such  a  case  is 
extremely  severe,  awarding  three  fold  damages  and  all 
costs,  and  nothing  could  glut  his  infernal  malice  till  he 
had  drawn  your  son  before  authority.  And,  for  three 
fold  damages  and  costs,  obtained  judgment  against  him 
for  about  fifteen  dollars  ;  for  the  payment  of  which,  two  of 
my  neighbors,  Mr.  Porter  and  Mr.  Hawkins,  gave  their 
security,  and  your  son  returned  to  his  study  as  before. 
The  affair  gave  me  unspeakable  distress  of  mind,  and  even 
^ept  me  awake  several  nights.  The  authority  could  do 
^-.Ihing  in  the  case  but  what  they  did  ;  the  law  is  plain. 
The  monster  that  prosecuted  summoned  a  great  cloud  of 


24  MEMOIRS  OF 

evidences  on  purpose,  I  suppose,  to  gratify  his  malice  in 
augmenting  the  cost.  Our  people,  sir,  have  all  the  high- 
est respect  and  veneration  for  you,  and  are  ready  to  inter- 
pose and  do  all  they  can  to  save  you  trouble,  and  with  one 
voice  cry  out  upon  the  wretch  that  has  been  so  cruel  to 
you  and  your  son. 

"  It  is  highly  necessary,  sir,  that  you  should  make  us  a 
visit  as  soon  as  may  be  after  commencement.  I  am  in 
fear  you  will  think  somewhat  hard  ©f  me,  that  I  did  not 
retain  Stephen  in  my  own  house  ;  when  I  see  you,  I  will 
give  you  the  fullest  satisfaction  in  that  matter.  Had  he 
been  willing  to  have  lived  with  me  the  whole  time,  I  should 
have  rejoiced  at  it,  notwithstanding  the  extreme  difficulty 
of  my  keeping  any  boarders  in  these  times.  I  hope  God 
will  dispose  and  improve  him  in  some  important  and 
honorable  station  in  life,  as  he  has  certainly  an  excellent 
genius  ;  though  he  is  as  yet  in  the  vanity  of  youth. 

"  I  mourn  that  I  cannot  wait  on  you,  as  I  intended,  and 
the  other  worthy  gentlemen  of  the  board. 

"  May  our  kindest  regards  be  acceptable  to  Mr.  Bur- 
roughs and  lady ;  may  all  New  Covenant  blessings  be  your 
portion,  and  that  of  your  remaining  children  :  after  all  our 
trouble  may  we  meet  in  everlasting  rest. 

"  My  kind  love  to  all  my  friends  and  acquaintance  in 
your  parts.  I  remain.  Rev.  and  dear  Sir,  with  the  firm- 
est attachments,  and  most  cordial  affection,  your  faithful 
friend,  and  most  obedient  humble  servant, 

JOSEPH  HUNTINGTON. 
Rev.  Mr.  Burroughs." 

Inasmuch  as  you  are  now  on  the  subject  of  Dr.  Hunt- 
ington and  his  correspondence  with  my  father,  I  v.ill  here 
insert  two  other  letters  written  by  him  some  years  after ; 
one,  when  I  was  in  great  adversity,  and  the  other,  at  a  time 
of  apparent  prosperity. 

^^  Coventry^  (Con.)  2^th  Jan.  1783. 
"  Rev.  and  vert  dear  sir, 

"  Your  late  epistle  came  safe  to  hand  >  and  while  I  was 
affected  with  pleasure  in  your  kind  remembrance  of  me, 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  :y 

I  was  impressed  with  much  sympathy  and  grief  in  the  case 
of  your  dear  and  only  son.  The  ways  of  divine  Providence 
are  a  great  deep ;  what  God  does  we  "  know  not  now,  but 
shall  know  hereafter."  St.  Austin,  when  a  youth,  w:\s 
very  vain,  vicious,  wild,  and  ungovernable :  bis  pious 
mother,  Monica,  was  condnually  in  prayers  and  tears  for 
him  :  an  eminent  Divine,  one  day,  told  her,  that  so  many 
prayers  would  never  be  lost.  You  well  know  what  God 
did  for  St.  Austin,  and  what  a  blessing  he  was  to  the 
Church,  and  to  the  world.  Let  us  submit,  pray,  hope  and 
wait. 

''  We  are  in  good  health ;  have  no  news  more,  perhaps, 
than  what  you  have  been  acquainted  with :  the  work  of 
God  has  been  considerable  among  us,  and  yet  continues ; 
the  effusion  of  the  divine  Spirit  with  you  has  been  more 
copious  ;  Oh  \  may  it  be  on  all  the  world,  "  as  rivers  in  the 
wilderness,  and  as  floods  on  the  dry  ground  :" 

"  I  beg  that  my  m-ost  cordial  regards,  with  ]Mrs.  Hunt- 
ington's, may  be  acceptable  to  Mr.  Burroughs  and  his  lady. 

"  Remaining  as  ever,  dear  sir, 
"  With  great  respect, 

"  Your  most  obedient  humble  servant, 

JOSEPH  HUNTINGTON. 
Rev,  Mr.  Burroug«s." 


<'  Coventry,  (Con.)  23cl  Oct.  ITSi. 
'^  Rev.  and  vert  dear  sib, 

"  Could  you  know  the  tender  feelings  of  my  heart  to- 
ward you  and  your  family,  it  would  give  me  comfort  ;  my 
friendship  is  warm  as  ever,  while  I  lament  the  separation 
made  among  your  people,  and  mourn  that  we  could  not 
Worship  together,  when  I  last  waited  on  you  at  Hanover. 
But  as  my  'prayers  have  been  answered  with  regard  to 
your  son,  so  I  believe  they  will  be  with  respect  to  your 
people  :  you  have  now  great  comfort  m  the  ibrmer,  you 
will,  I  hope,  soon  have  in  the  latte^' ;  and  the  v.xiolc  people 
shall  unite  and  rejoice  in  your  light,  as  in  days  past. 

"  Mrs.  Huntington  uiiites  with  me  in  love  and  respect 
to  Mr.  Burroughs,  lus  lady  and  son.      God  Almighty, 


26  MEMOIRS  OF 

grant  you  eveiy  New  Covenant  blessing.     I  have  the  hon- 
or to  be,  dear  sir,  with  much  respect, 

"  Your  most  obedient,  humble  serv't, 

JOSEPH  HUNTINGTON. 
Rev.  Mr.  Burroughs." 


CHAP.  IV. 

**  In  life's  gay  mom,  what  vivid  hues 
"  Adorn  the  animating  views, 

"  By  flattering  fancy  drawn  ? 
*'  But  storms  with  gloomy  aspect  rise, 
"  To  cloud  the  azure  of  the  skies ; 

**  Now  mists  obscure  the  dawn." 

At  commencement,  1781, 1  was  presented,  examined, 
and  admitted  a  member  of  Dartmouth  College.  Here  I 
had  a  new  situation  before  me,  and  another  part  to  act  ; 
not  possessing  all  the  advantages  to  act  it  with  eclat.  The 
reports  of  my  many  wild  eccentricities  had  come  before 
me,  magnified  in  a  tenfold  degree,  and  I  found  all  were 
waiting  with  open  mouths  to  see  an  explosion.  Those, 
who  were  fond  of  such  scenes  of  diversion,  were  disap- 
pointed at  my  neglect  in  exhibiting  some  specimens  of 
lun,  which  I  had  determined  to  lay  by  entirely.  Others, 
who  were  of  a  different  cast,  lowered  upon  me  with  a 
threatening  brow,  indicative  of  their  intention  to  check  my 
wildness  in  its  first  appearance. 

Here,  I  found  my  situation  very  different  and  disagree- 
able ;  on  the  one  hand,  I  was  excited,  invited  and  flattered 
to  gratify  those  who  were  fond  of  amusement ;  on  the 
other,  I  was  vratched,  with  the  scrutinizing  eye  of  jealou- 
sy, for  misconduct,  and  a  readiness  to  censure  in  me  v,^hat 
Avould  be  thought  innocent  in  others,  to  humble  and  check 
that  growing  propensity  to  disorder,  as  was  alledged.  My 
father  was  careful  to  have  me  take  a  room  with  one  Jacob 
Wood,  A.  M.  wiio,  of  all  others,  was  best  calculated  to 
humble  and  mortify  any,  whom  he  entertained  a  suspicion 
agciinbi,  as  differing  from  him  in  principle  or  practice. 
A  man  of  small  stature,  and  yet  smaller  mental  abilities  ; 
rigid  and  enthusiastic  in  his  notions  of  religion,  which 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  27 

consisted  in  a  sour,  morose,  misanthropic  line  of  conduct 
towards  all  who  were  not  of  his  party.  To  be  an  inmate 
with  such  a  character,  you  will  readily  conceive,  no  way 
comported  with  a  disposition  like  mine  ;  and  consequent- 
ly, we  never  enjoyed  that  union  and  harmony  of  feeliui^s 
in  our  intercourse,  as  room  mates,  which  was  necessary 
for  the  perfect  enjoyment  of  social  life.  Possessing  a 
mind  very  unstable,  he  was  often  out  of  humor,  at  his 
want  of  success,  in  making  me  submissive  and  humble 
to  his  caprice  ;  and  being  desirous  of  my  sharing  a  part 
of  hii  chagrin,  he  assailed  my  ears  with  a  perpetual  stream 
of  petulant  crimiDations.  He  sought  opportunities  to 
mortify  me  before  company,  by  representing  me  as  a  per- 
son inattentive  to  matters  of  religion,  and  consequcnth', 
wanting  every  virtue.  This  mode  of  procedure,  I  could 
not  tamely  dispense  v/ith  ;  my  invention  was  the  only 
mean  of  resort  for  retaliation. 

One  night,  while  he  was  paying  his  devoirs  to  a  young- 
lady,  word  was  brought  him,  that  in  a  fit  of  the  epilepsy, 
I  was  about  expiring,  and  wished  for  him  to  perform  the 
last  kind  oSce  of  a  friend,  to  pray  with,  and  for  me.  This 
was  a  business  he  always  attended  with  great  promptitude  ; 
his  Dulcinea  being  equally  possessed  with  the  laudable 
ambition  of  proselyting,  agreed  to  accompany  him  to  the 
room.  But  when  they  ca.me  there,  they  found  it  empty  of 
every  living  thing,  and  not  even  the  appearance  of  any 
person's  being  there  that  night  ;  for  the  truth  was,  I  had, 
the  day  preceding,  obtained  leave  of  absence,  and  was 
gone  to  my  father's.  This  was  readily  understood  as  a 
pun  upon  his  sacerdotal  character,  than  which,  nothing 
rould  have  wounded  him  more.  His  character,  in  that 
respect,  he  wished  to  have  considered  as  sacred  ;  and  to 
tritlc  with  that,  was  striking  at  the  very  root  of  all  his 
sanctimonious  self  importance.  He  suspected  me  to  be 
■-.c  author  of  this  mortifying  scene,  and  was  unwearied  in 
'.-J  endeavors  to  gain  some  evidence  of  the  fact;  but 
ail  his  exertions  were  ineftectual.  Notwithstanding  all 
these  singularities  and  eccentricities,  I  believe  him  to  be 
a  man  oi  rai  honest  heart,  led  to  practice  those  ridiculous 
plaris  by  a  misgukled  zeal  for  religion. 


28  MEMOIRS  OF 

About  this  time,  the  Indians  had  made  inroads  upon 
some  of  the  frontier  settlements,  aiid  destroyed  them.  It 
■vvas  feared  they  would  make  a  descent  upon  Hanover,  and 
burn  Dartmouth  College,  with  the  buildings  ii?  its  vicinity ; 
and  consequently,  the  minds  of  the  people  were  full  of 
fear,  and  easily  aroused  by  an  alarm  of  any  kind.  One 
evening,  being  in  company  with  a  number  of  others,  we 
proposed  and  agreed,  to  make  a  visit  to  a  yard  of  water- 
melons, belonging  to  a  man  in  the  vicinity,  who  kept  them 
for  sale,  and  help  ourselves  to  some  of  them.  We  ac- 
cordingly put  our  plan  in  execution  ;  and  went  as  far  as 
the  river,  half  a  mile  out  of  town,  in  order  to  eat  them 
more  securely.  After  we  had  finished  our  repast,  every 
one  took  his  own  w^ay,  in  order  to  get  to  his  room  unper- 
ceived.  I  came  directly  into  town,  by  the  most  obvious 
rout,  in  company  with  one  Paine.  When  we  had  gotten 
to  the  green,  around  which  the  buildings  stand,  we  discov- 
ered some  person  walking  before  ray  door,  suspecting,  as 
I. supposed,  my  absence  from  my  room;  which  being 
against  the  laws  of  College,  at  that  time  of  night,  would 
give  him  an  opportunity,  if  he  made  the  desired  discove- 
ry, to  involve  me  in  difficulty. 

All  these  circumstances  were  very  apparent  to  me,  and 
therefore,  I  wished  to  avoid  being  kncv.n  to  him,  as  well 
as  to  avoid  the  discovery  of  the  water-melons.  We  there- 
fore turned  off  another  course,  tlian  directly  to  the  Col- 
lege, and  rolled  our  gowns  close  together,  and  tucked 
them  up  on  our  backs,  so  as  to  make  the  appearance  of 
yncn  with  packs  on  their  backs.  This  man,  Higgins  by 
name,  seeing  us  by  this  time,  came  on  towards  us;  we 
quickened  our  pace — ^.:c  purs^ued  us  wiLli  equal  speed — 
we  ran — he  ran  after  us,  and  halloaed  with  all  his  might. 
1  WIS  now  sensible,  that  an  alarm  would  be  made  among 
the  inhabitants,  and  of  course,  some  immediate  and  de- 
cibive  measures  must  be  taken  to  prevent  a  diocovcry,  or 
a  suspicion  of  the  water-melon  l)usiness  flUiing  on  me  ;  I 
therefore,  turned  a  short  coiner,  where  my  pursuer  lost 
sight  of  me,  and  ran  directly  back  to  the  College,  and  got 
into  my  room  undiscovered. 

Fortunately,  my  i-oom-mate  was  not  at  his  lodgings  this 
ni  /ht.    I  heard  an  enquiry  in  the  rooms  adjoining  respect- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  29 

ingthe  noise;  I  went  into  one  of  them,  and  fouiKi  they 
Ave  re  abo\it  staninj^  after  Higgiiis^to  learn  the  ditBciilty. 
We  accordingly  all  started  together,  and  after  running  about 
one  hundred  rods,  came  up  to  him,  who  was  still  hcillooing 
for  help.  On  enquiry,  he  told  us  that  he  had  discovered 
two  men,  carrying  packs  on  their  backs,  lurking  about  the 
town,  whom  he  supposed  to  be  spies  from  the  Indians,  and 
that  they  had  fled  on  discovering  him.  The  tov.n  was 
alarmed,  the  miiitia  turned  out ;  the  boats  up  and  down 
the  river  were  stopped ;  the  w^oods  were  scoured,  br.t 
nothing  found,  nothing  discovered ;  all  night,  the  fruit 
less  search  was  continued.* 

About  the  dawn  of  day,  the  people  returned,  wxary 
and  fatigued,  into  the  town,  and  assembled  for  mutual 
consultation.  Some  thought  one  thing,  some  anoth- 
er. Some  thought  the  whole  difficulty  began  in  noth- 
ing, and  ended  in  the  same.  Some  thought  it  a  trick  ci" 
the  scholars  to  make  themselves  diversion.  At  the  sug- 
gestion of  this  idea,  one  Capt.  Storrs  observed,  that  )ic 
sa.w  Burroughs  and  Paine  pass  by  his  house,  about  six 
minutes  before  he  heard  the  outcry.  The  name  of  Bur- 
roughs cast  a  suspicious  appearance  upon  the  business  ; 
they  all  turned  their  eyes  on  me,  as  the  author  of  this 
alarm  and  uproar.  I  cited  those  who  ran  from  the  Col- 
lege with  me,  on  the  first  of  the  outcry,  to  vouch  for  my 
innocence  ;  they  readily  did  it.  All  v/ere  satisfied,  on  my 
account,  except  my  good  friend  Mr.  Wood.  He  rolled 
the  eye  of  jealousy  over  the  business — ^he  was  dissatisfied. 
He  took  Paine  to  a  private  room  in  the  College,  and  there, 
by  a  reiterated  course  of  flattery,  threatening,  terrors,  and 
soothings,  he  obtained  the  mighty  secret,  as  it  related  to 
me.  I  was  immediately  informed  of  the  business,  by  a 
person  wdiom  1  had  placed  in  a  room  adjoining,  to  over- 
hear whatever  should  be  the  result  of  this  conference. 

It  was  now  about  sunrise.  I  immediately  went  to  the 
owner  of  the  water-melons,  and  told  him,  that  passing 
his  yard  last  evening,  after  he  was  in  bed,  I  had  taken 

*  This  is  too  high  colored.     There  was  indeed  an  alarm,  and  tiie 
writer  of  this  note  was  one  of  the  pursuers ;  but  the  fright  did  not 
continue  all  night,  nor  did  the  militia  generally  twin  out, 
r    "^ 


50  jmemoirs  of 

t Twelve  of  his  water-melons,  knowing  he  kept  them  fou 
Sile,  and  canne  to  let  him  know  it,  and  \Ydy  him  for  them. 
Aficr  counting  his  water-melons,  ana  finding  twelve  taken, 
according  to  my  account^  he  took  the  pay,  and  gave  me 
liis  receipt.  1  now  returned  to  my  room,  ready  to  meet 
-he  heavy  blow  I  saw  was  preparing  against  me. 

By  this  time  it  had  taken  air,  that  I  was  the  author  of 
last  night's  alarm.  Every  countenance  was  turned  upon 
roe  In  an  oblique  direction.  They  had  ail  heard  that  theft 
was  combined  in  the  business;  they  had  all  determined  I  • 
iViUSt  f.dl  under  this  blow  ;  tberetore,  they  were  wailing 
for  the  awful  moment  of  my  being  summonec^, before  the 
authority  of  College.  Ten  o'clock,  the  all  tremendous 
hour  arrived  !  I  appeared  ;  a  number  had  gathered,  which 
crowded  the  room.  After  the  charge  was  read  against 
me,  Mr.  Ripley,  one  of  the  Tutors,  addressed  me  in  a 
speech  of  half  an  hour's  length,  stating  the  enormous  crime 
I  had  been  guilty  of,  the  course  of  iniquity  I  must  have  led 
through  life,  to  be  detected  in  such  an  attrocious  high 
handed  breach  of  law,  at  the  age  of  sh^teen  ;  the  disgrace 
i  had  brought  on  my  family  connexions,  and  the  seminary 
cf  which  I  was  a  member  ;  that  my  expulsion,  which  would 
undoubtedly  succeed,  would  be  but  only  a  prelude  to  my 
punishment  by  the  civil  law  ;  that  ruin  and  disgrace  were 
the  only  effects,  vrhich  would  fall  on  my  devoted  head. 

This  rant  I  heard  v,ith  the  coolness  of  a  stoic.  After 
he  had  talked  himself  out  of  breath,  I  had  liberty  to  an- 
swer. I  mentioned  the  hardness  of  my  case,  in  being  ac- 
cused, condemned  and  executed  without  any  proof,  or 
even  being  heard  in  my  own  defence.  That  I  did  not 
know  what  evidence  they  could  produce  of  my  being  guilty 
of  the  crime  laid  to  my  charge,  but  whatever  it  was,  I  hop- 
ed to  be  sufficiently  able  to  overtiuii  its  vali  Jity,  and  clearly 
establish  my  innocence.  At  least,  the  humane  language 
of  candor  taught  us  to  hold  every  man  innocent  till  he  was 
proved  guilty.  True  it  was,  I  had  taken  water-melons 
from  Mr.  Smith  the  night  preceding,  but  had  early  that 
morning  informed  him  of  the  fact,  and  paid  for  them. 
This  information  was  like  a  thunder-clap  to  some  of  the 
spectators.  All  their  hopes  of  seeing  ruin  fall  heavy  on 
my  head  vrere  now  quashed  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  51 

Mr.  Smith,  the  owner  of  the  water-meloDs,  havin.:^  been 
sent  for,  testified  to  all  the  facts  which  I  had  stated ;  and 
of  coarse,  here  the  business  ended. 

My  father  consented  for  my  removal  from  the  room 
where  I  had  lived.  I  accordingly  chan::jed  my  lodgings, 
to  my  no  small  satisfaction.  During  the  succeeding  vaca- 
tion, my  father,  attentive  to  his  wonted  humanity,  took  a 
class-mate  of  mine,  by  the  name  of  Coffin,  home  to  his 
house,  whose  pecuniary  circumstances  were  difficult,  and 
gave  him  his  board  and  tuition,  gratis.  He  likewise  sup- 
plied Coffin  with  provisions  for  his  subsistance  for  the  next 
winter,  on  condition  of  his  paying  for  them  afterwards,  at 
a  time  he  himself  had  fixed,  as  being  most  convenient. 
The  time  being  elapsed,  I  asked  Coffin  for  the  money,  ac- 
cording to  his  promise,  in  behalf  of  my  father,  in  order  to 
answer  some  small  engagements  which  I  was  under  for 
the  payment  of  money.  He  paid  but  little  attention  to  my 
request ;  I  repeated  it  a  number  of  times  afterwards,  but 
without  effect.  At  length  Coffin  told  me  plainly,  he  had 
no  intention  of  paying  the  debt ;  stating  the  difference  be- 
tween his  and  my  father's  circumstances  ;  that  my  father 
was  better  able  to  do  without  it  than  he  was  to  pay  it.  I 
remonstrated  in  warm  terms  on  the  unreasonableness  of 
his  conduct.  This  brought  about  a  violent  resentment 
on  his  side,  which  he  never  failed  to  shew  when  he  had  an 
opportunity.  He  united  himself  und^r  the  banner  of  my 
friend  Wood,  in  order  to  increase  their  strength  by  union. 
Mr.  Ripley,  the  Tutor,  was  likewise  disaffected^- not  only 
by  the  chagrin  of  being  found  to  be  a  false  preacher,  when 
he  was  on  the  subject  of  the  water-melons,  but  likewise 
on  account  of  a  violent  antipathy  and  resentment  against 
my  father,  owing  to  their  disagreeing  in  sentiment  with 
regard  to  the  management  of  certain  religious  matters  ; 
and  therefore  vras  determined,  according  to  the  good  old 
rule,  "  to  visit  the  iniquities  of  the  fathers  on  the  children.'* 
He,  uniting  his  force  with  those  above  mentioned,  formed 
a  powerful  triumvirate  against  me.* 

*  It  is  justly  due  to  the  memory  of  Professor  Ripley,  to  acquit 
his  character  of  such  an  unmerited  aspersion.  I  do  not  accuse  tlie 
autlior  of  falsehood.  Ke  imdoubtedly  considered  this  gentleman 
as  his  enerr^y ;  but  it  is  believed  that  nothing-  could  be  more  err> 


2  MEMOIRS  OF 

About  this  time  the  President  of  the  College  left  here, 
irjtending  a  tour  to  Europe.  The  Tutors  now  becarae  the 
only  executive  authority  of  the  College.  My  friend  Rip- 
ley was  the  second  in  standing,  and  consequently  a  great 
degree  of  influence  fell  into  his  hands.  This  influence  he 
was  careful  to  exercise  on  every  occasion.  On  a  certain 
day  of  the  week,  when  my  class  were  called  upon  to  de- 
claim, I  did  not  attend  ;  the  reason  of  my  absence  was  ow- 
ing to  this  circumstance.  I  ^ad  sent  my  shoes  to  the  shoe- 
maker, and  contrary  to  my  expectation,  they  had  not  yet 
returned,  and  I  had  not  shoes  decent  for  my  appearance 
abroad.  Mr.  Ripley  sent  for  me  to  appear,  and  perform 
my  part  of  the  exercises  of  the  day  ;  the  excuse,  which 
existed,  I  sent  him,  but  the  messenger  returned  with  pos- 
itive orders  for  m.e  to  attend.  I  attended  with  such  shoes 
as  I  had,  mounted  the  stage,  and  declaimed.  I  made  my 
obeisance,  and  retired.  He  called  to  me,  and  publicly 
reprimanded  me  for  appearing  in  such  habiliment.  At  a 
certain  time  he  made  a  request  to  my  class  to  assist  him 
in  a  certain  piece  of  business,  which  he  was  desirous  of 
performing  one  afternoon.  I  turned  out  to  assist  him.  We 
were  detained  till  ten  o'clock  at  night.  The  next  morn- 
ing I  was  absent  from  recitation.  He  sent  forme — I  came 
— He  again  reprimanded  me  for  being  deficient  in  my 
classic  lesson,  though  he  knew  the  cause  was  my  perform- 
ing service  for  him  at  his  request.  Finding  matters  thus 
disagreeably  situated,  I  determined  to  quit  that  ground 
which  I  could  not  maintain  with  any  probability  of  success. 
I  accordingly  left  College,  and  went  to  my  father's. 


CHAP.  V. 

"  And  thus  my  days  in  one  sad  tenor  run, 
"  And  end  hi  sorrow,  as  they  fii'st  be  gam.'* 

X  O  remain  an  inactive  member  of  society  was  far  from 
my  desire  ;  various  plans  were  proposed  by  my  father  for 

neous.  !Mr.  Ripley  labored  with  young  Bmroughs,  as  a  tender 
father  with. his  child,  to  dissuade  him  from  his  vicious  courses  ; 
but,  imfortunatcly,  the  latter  considered  all  his  exertions  a,s  the  ef- 
fect only  of  personal  prejudice. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  33 

tny  entering  into  business,  or  at  least,  preparing  myself 
for  it,  but  none  appeared  so  eligible  as  going  to  sea ;  there- 
fore, it  was  determined  for  me  to  bend  my  course  that 
way.  My  father  fitted  me  out  with  a  horse,  saddle,  bridle, 
and  about  twenty  dollars  in  money,  and  let  me  loose  upon 
the  broad  theatre  of  the  world,  to  act  my  part  according  to 
my  abilities.  The  want  of  experience  and  a  natural  hasty 
temper,  prone  to  inconsiderate  actions,  augured  no  very 
favorable  prospects  before  me. 

I  had  been  t  mem.ber  of  the  seminary  of  Dartmouth 
College  sufficiently  long,  to  be  filled  with  that  sort  of  learn- 
ing which  gave  me  an  exalted  idea  of  my  own  importance, 
and  which  was  of  no  manner  of  use,  in  my  pursuits  through 
life.  This  may  appear  strange,  that  I  should  spend  three 
years  in  gaining  that,  which  was  good  for  nothing.  Hov/- 
ever  strange  it  may  seem  to  you,  sir,  yet  it  is  a  fact.  One 
year,  I  was  studying  to  prepare  myself  for  admittance  into 
that  seminary,  where  I  spent  two  in  learning  nothing,  or 
that  which  amounted  to  the  same  in  the  end. 

Perhaps  you  may  think  I  entertain  an  opinion  of  this 
College  as  being,  in  point  of  usefulness,  much  below  the 
other  Universities  on  the  continent ;  but  this  is  not  the 
ccise.  It  is  a  melancholy  consideration,  that  our  youth 
should  spend  so  much  time  in  acquiring  that  knowledge,* 
which  is  of  no  use  to  themselves  or  to  the  community,  of 
which  they  are  members.  To  acquire  an  accurate  knowl- 
edge of  the  dead  languages,  seven  years  is  a  short  time  ; 
and  after  this  is  effected,  to  what  does  it  amount  ?  Does  it 
give  bread  to  the  persons  possessing  it,  or  does  it  serve  to 
enlighten,  enrich,  or  render  more  happy  any  part  of  the 
comm.unity  ?  I  contend,  that  the  person  who  has  learned 
to  make  a  shoe,  does  more  good  to  society,  than  he  wh.o 
hi  s  spent  seven  years  in  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  dead 
langu^xges.  If  this  position  is  founded  in  truth,  then  this 
consequence  will  follow,  that  more  than  one  half  of  the 
time  spent  at  the  Universities,  according  to  their  present 
establishment  on  this  continent,  is  throv/n  away  ;  and  that 
the  position  is  founded  in  fact,  I  will  endeavor  to  prove.* 

It  is  not  stran,g:e  the  author  should  rccason  in  this  murmer.  He 
was  expelled  College  in  the  second  quarter  of  his  second  year ;  and 
it  is  ii  f'lct,  he  studied  but  very  little"  v.hile  he  vras  a  member. 


34  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  happiness  of  ourselves,  together  with  the  good  of 
society,  is  the  governing  pursuit  of  every  valuable  member 
of  community  ;  therefore,  whatever  conduces  to  this  end, 
is  the  only  object  v/orthy  of  attention.  !  he  good  of  socie- 
ty may  be  comprised  in  these  three  points,  viz.  1st.  To 
obtain  wh:it  is  necessary  to  supply  the  calls  of  nature,  by 
the  least  painful  measures.  2d.  Rules  for  the  regulation 
of  mankind,  in  their  relative  situation,  which,  in  their  op- 
eration, will  tend  to  harmonize  the  conduct  of  the  whole 
towards  individuals.  3d.  A  supply  of  food  for  the  mental 
part  of  creation  ;  for  the  mental  part  requires  a  certain 
supply,  in  order  to  render  us  sensibly  happy,  as  well  as 
the  corporeal.  x>Iankind,  in  their  present  state  of  exist- 
ence, find  it  necessary  to  submit  to  the  pain  of  labor,  in  or- 
der to  protect  themselves  from  the  cries  of  hunger  and 
thirst,  from  the  inclemency  of  the  climates  and  seasons, 
and  from  the  unjust  encroachments  upon  their  industrious 
acquisitions  and  natural  rights.  These  are  the  first  objects 
Avhich  mankind  find  themselves  under  the  necessity  of 
attending  to  ;  hence,  we  find  the  most  savage  and  barbar- 
ous nations  occupied  in  these  pursuits.  Nations  that  have 
made  no  improvements  in  useful  knowledge,  are  subject 
to  the  greatest  degree  of  pain,  in  supplying  the  simple 
calls  of  nature.  The  precarious  effects  of  the  chase  are 
the  most  general  supplies  to  the  calls  of  hunger  with  them, 
and  as  that  is  a  resource  of  so  doubtful  a  nature,  those  peo- 
ple often  suffer  the  pain  of  hunger  unsatisfied  ;  therefore, 
no  wonder  we  find  the  inventor  of  the  plow  immortalized 
and  deified,  because  the  good  which  he  had  done  to  man- 
kind was  so  essentially  felt  and  known.  They  then  saw  the 
imcertainty  of  a  support  changed  into  a  certainty  ;  that 
they  now  were  able  to  provide  for  themselves  and  fami- 
lies, and  consequently,  the  different  sexes  could  enter  in- 
to that  connexion,  which  contributed  greatly  to  increase 
the  happiness  of  society,  without  the  danger  of  seeing  their 
tender  offspring  perish  miserably  for  the  want  of  suste- 
nance. This  object  occupies  the  feelings  of  mankind 
now,  as  it  has  done  heretofore.  Tliey  find  the  same 
necessity  for  a  support  for  themselves  and  offspring  ; 
>nd  consequently,  those   acquirements,  which  serve  to 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  35 

render  men  able  to  procure  a  support,  in  an  easy  and  cer- 
tain way,  are  now  the  most  essential  to  the  good  of  socie- 
ty. That  learning  the  dead  languages  has  no  direct  or 
indirect  tendency  to  this  acquirement  is  a  truth  so  ol3vi- 
ous,  that  more  need  not  be  said  on  the  subject ;  therefore, 
with  regard  to  the  usefulness  of  this  species  of  knowledge, 
in  the  first  and  most  essential  pursuit  of  mankind,  we  find 
that  it  is  not  founded  in  fact. 

The  second  most  important  object,  for  the  good  of  so- 
ciety, is  those  rules  for  the  regulation  of  mankind  in  their 
relative  situation,  which,  in  their  operation,  will  tend  to 
harmonize  the  conduct  of  mankind  towards  each  other. 
Legislation  is  a  subject,  perhaps,  of  all  others,  the  most 
difficult  to  bring  to  perfection,  so  as  to  have  a  thorough 
understanding  of  its  nature  and  operation.  It  has  been 
the  study  of  the  greatest  men  in  all  ages,  since  society  has 
been  formed  ;  and  yet,  much  is  to  be  learned  on  this  sub- 
ject. 

To  understand  the  operations  of  the  human  heart,  so  as 
to  adopt  rules  for  the  regulation  of  man,  in  his  conduct 
towards  his  fellow  members  of  society,  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  render  those  rules  easy   and  acceptable  to  all,    and 
under  which,  all  will  enjoy  the  blessings  of  society  unin- 
terrupted, is  an  object  of  such  magnitude  and  importance, 
that  every  breast,  possessing  the  principles  of  philanthro- 
py, must  be  fired  with  ardor  in  the  investigation.     As  far 
as  mankind  deviate  from  such  a  government,  so  far  they 
are  politically  unhappy,  and  in  as  great  a  degree  as  they 
approximate  to  this  golden  age,  not  of  poetic  fiction,  but 
of  reality,   so   far    they  approach    towards  real   political 
perfection.     What  a  perversion  of  the  talents  and  time  of 
our  youth,  whom  we  intend  for  public  employments  I  to 
keep  them  tied  down  to  the  study  of  the  uninteresting  and 
unessential  branches  of  the  Latin,   Greek,  and  Hebrew 
languages,  the  greater  part  of  their   continuance  at  the 
University,  to  the  utter  neglect  of  political  knowledge  \  I 
am  bold  to  affirm,  that  not  one  to  twenty  of  those  who  are 
dubbed  with  the  title  of  a.  b.  or  a.  m.  understand  that  con- 
stitution or  form  of  government  under  which  they  live. 
Will  not  the  mind  of  sensibility  C17  out  with  the  orator, 
on  another  occasion  ?  **  O,  the  times  I  O,  the  manners  V* 


36  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  last  object  of  attention,  though  not  less  interesting, 
is  a  supply  of  fcod  for  the  mental  part  of  creation.  The 
mind  of  man  is  made  capable  of  greater  enjoyment  than 
what  barely  relates  to  the  senses.  The  system  of  morali- 
ty and  philosophy  are  what  I  mean  to  be  understood  as 
food  for  the  mind,  or  mental  part  of  creation.  When  the 
mind  of  man  becomes  disengaged  from  the  primary  ob- 
jects of  nature's  call,  it  then  mounts  to  things  of  greater 
magnitude  than  what  barely  relate  to  itself;  it  views  crea- 
tion, the  works  of  providence,  and  the  end  to  which  all 
these  things  point.  The  doctrine  of  right  and  wrong,  or 
in  other  words,  virtue  and  vice,  is  a  subject  which  supplies 
food  for  the  mind,  or  which  gives  the  highest  polish  to  the 
happiness  which  it  enjoys.  When  we  vie"w  the  curious 
order  of  nature,  and  see  that  all  things  are  governed  by 
fixed  and  unalterable  laws,  which  once  discovered,  lead  to 
a  knowledge  of  future  events  and  useful  improvements ; 
that  the  parent  of  nature  has  carefully  and  curiously  pro- 
vided for  all  his  children,  even  to  the  minutest  insect,  we 
cannot  but  be  filled  with  that  delight  at  viewing  the  fitness 
of  things,  which  no  other  subject  can  create.  I  will  con- 
tend, that  more  satisfaction  is  enjoyed  in  viewing  the  ope- 
ration of  nature  on  a  single  kernel  of  wheat,  after  it  is 
committed  to  the  ground,  and  there  is  more  usefulness  in 
that  contemplation,  than  in  the  study  of  the  dead  languages 
through  life.  Can  a  knowledge  of  these  languages  help  a 
person  in  the  investigation  of  ethics,  philosophy,  or  mo- 
rality ? 

I  am  aware  it  will  be  said,  that  to  read  the  scriptures  in 
the  original  tongues  will  enable  a  person  to  understand 
them  much  better,  than  to  be  able  to  read  the  translations 
only  ;  and  therefore,  it  is  necessaiy  that  all  who  intend  the 
study  of  divinity  as  their  pursuit,  should  be  acquainted 
with  these  languages.  Happy  would  it  have  been  for  man- 
kind had  these  effects  followed  :  but,  the  truth  is  far  oth- 
erwise. We  find  the  Christian  world  broken  into  parties 
and  factions  by  those  very  characters  who  have  been  en- 
abled to  read  the  scriptures  in  the  original ;  and  much 
greater  disagreement  has  happened  in  the  interpretation, 
than  what  has  been  among  those  v/ho  can  read  the  trc^r'^la- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  37 

iion  only  ;  and  even  in  this  enlightened  age,  when  so  ma- 
ny are  favored  with  this  great  privilege,  we  do  not  find  a 
more  general  agreement  respecting  the  doctrines  of 
scripture. 

I  appeal  to  your  own  observations,  whether  I  have  not 
stated  matters  of  fact,  as  they  exist,  without  miscolorhig 
or  exaggeration,  in  respect  to  the  study  of  the  dead  lan- 
guages. Then  the  greater  part  of  the  time  si>ent  at  Uni- 
versities amounts  to  nothing,  or  what  is  vrorse.  It  habitu- 
ates the  mind  to  a  system  of  error,  and  puts  it  upon  the 
pursuit  of  wroijg  objects,  and  of  course  it  becomes  difficult 
to  break  those  chains  of  habit  which  education  has  forged. 

Look  around  on  mankind  ;  do  we  see  any  of  those  lumi- 
naries, who  have  been  granted  to  the  world  as  Heaven's 
richest  boon,  from  among  our  collegiate  characters  ?  On 
the  contrary,  a  Washington,  a  Franklin,  a  Rittenhouse, 
have  shone  resplendent,  without  the  borrowed  rays  of  a 
College.  We  are  prone  to  form  a  Avrong  estimate  of  edu- 
cation, perhaps,  more  than  of  any  other  object  of  our  at- 
tention. When  a  youth  has  spent  four  years  at  a  Univer- 
sity, and  has  gone  the  common  round  of  establishing  a 
character  for  ability,  by  stealing  water-melons,  robbing 
hen-roosts,  geese-houses.  Sec.  and  playing  tricks  upon  the 
inhabitants'  cows  and  horses,  and  can  speak  a  number  of 
sentences  which  others  do  not  understand,  his  fond  mother 
looks  at  him  with  a  pleasing  significance,  and  tells  her  in- 
quisitive neighbors,  that  her  son  has  got  to  be  a  man  cf 
science,  and  in  order  to  establish  her  doctrine  recounts  all 
the  manoeuvres  he  has  practiced  at  College,  in  order  to 
get  a  hen  out  of  the  roost.  The  father  thinks  these  are 
marks  of  greatness  of  mind  and  depth  of  knov/ledge,  and 
from  these  evidences,  forms  the  most  pleasing  expect^.- 
tions  of  his  son's  future  greatness.  These  anecdotes  are 
recounted  by  the  neighboi^  to  their  families,  through  a 
long  course  of  succeeding  winter  evenings'  amusements. 
They  drink  deeply  at  this  fountain  of  entertainment. 
When  they  hear  of  the  foolish  pranks  of  scholars,  they  are 
exhilirated  at  the  recital ;  they  dv.eil  upon  them  with 
pleasure,  and  behold  the  performers  with  admiration. 
Whereas,  let  it  be  said,  that  such  or  such  persons  have 

D 


Se  MEMOIRS  OF 

outstripped  their  felloAvs  in  depth  of  thought,  or  perspi- 
cuity of  reasoning  and  invention,  the  tale  becomes  lifeless, 
and  is  soon  forgotten. 

Our  youth,  possessing  the  ambition  of  becoming  famous, 
strike  out  into  that  road  which  the  unaccountable  prejudi- 
ces of  mankind  have  marked  for  them.  They  wish  to 
start  into  notice,  and  will  most  assuredly  adopt  such  mea- 
sures, as  they  see  have  brought  others  forward  into  public 
esteem.  I  believe,  sir,  you  will  be  heartily  tired  with  my 
digressions,  before  I  get  through  my  tedious  narration  ; 
but  I  ask  for  that  exercise  of  patience,  towards  my  weak- 
ness, which  I  know  your  generosity  will  grant.  My  feel- 
ings arc  so  warmly  interested  in  the  ideas  which  some  of 
my  observations  communicate,  that  I  cannot  suppress 
them,  without  doing  great  violence  to  my  mind.  But  to 
return  to  the  narrative. 

I  left  my  father'*s  house,  about  the  20th  of  November, 
at  the  age  of  seventeen,  and  directed  my  course  for  New- 
buryport,  a  small  seaport  town  in  the  state  of  Massachu- 
setts, where  they  fitted  out  many  small  vessels  for  priva- 
teering. After  I  had  travelled  the  chief  of  the  day,  I 
entered  into  the  woods  about  sunset.  Being  unacquainted 
\vith  the  way,  I  was  not  av/are  of  riding  more  than  a  mile 
or  two,  at  farthest,  before  I  should  come  to  inhabitants  ; 
but  to  my  surprise,  I  continued  my  course  till  it  became 
quite  dark,  without  discovering  any  traces  of  human  be- 
kigs,  except  the  road  1  Avas  travelling.  It  began  to  snow 
violently,  and  the  night  was  extremely  dark.  I  suddenly 
found  myself  against  a  team  and  waggon,  containing  a 
family  moving  into  the  country.  After  enquiring  the  dis- 
tance through  to  inhabitants,  and  the  nature  of  the  road,  I 
found  I  had  got  the  greatest  part  of  the  night's  work  be- 
fore me.  I  accordingly  quickened  my  pace,  and  waded 
through  the  snow,  which  by  this  time  had  becom.e  pretty 
deep,  with  all  the  exertion  in  my  power.  My  horse,  which 
had  not  been  refreshed  since  I  left  home,  now  became  fa- 
tip-ued ;  alighting,  I  drove  him  before  me,  till  I  became 
weary  with  travelUng  myself;  and  tlren  mounted  again. 
I  pursued  such  measures  alternately,  till  about  twelve  at 
iiieht,  v.  hen  I  espied  a  light,  at  a  little  distance  before  me. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  39 

A  person,  who  has  been  in  a  similar  situation,  will  read- 
ily conceive  the  nature  of  my  feelings  at  this  time.  The 
sight  of  this  illumination,  through  a  small  cranny  of  an 
old  log  hut,  was  attended  with  those  effusions  of  pleasure, 
which  the  miser  never  feels  when  hoarding  up  his  trea- 
sures. Entering  the  building  from  which  the  light  pro- 
ceeded, I  found  it  a  hut,  made  in  that  rude  state,  which  did 
not  admit  of  the  polish  of  art.  Logs  cut  from  the  forest 
were  laid  on  the  top  of  each  other,  to  the  height  of  eight 
feet,  when  a  ix)cf  was  added,  the  rafters  of  the  same  mate- 
rials, covered  with  the  barks  of  trees.  This  building  was' 
about  twenty  feet  square  ;  a  large  fire  being  built  in  the 
midst,  the  family  lay  around  it  on  the  ground.  The  whole 
group  presented  a  subject  fit  for  tlie  pencil  of  Hogarth. 
Inquiring  how  far  it  was  to  a  public  inn,  I  was  iniormed, 
that  one  was  kept  there.  Necessity  constrained  me  to 
accept  of  those  accommodations,  for  the  want  of  better. 

Some  refreshment  for  my  horse  being  obtained,  I  was 
conducted  to  a  bed  kept  for  travellers,  as  the  best  piece  of 
furniture  in  the  house.  Nature  was  too  much  fatigued  to 
hold  a  parley  with  inconveniences.  I  soon  fell  into  a  pro- 
fcimd  sleep,  which  continued,  I  suppose,  about  tv.-o  hours, 
when  I  awoke.  By  the  complaints  which  my  bones  ut- 
ered,  I  was  jealous  my  bed  was  not  made  of  down.  I 
arose,  called  for  my  horse,  and  after  travelling  five  miles 
ftirther,  ever  a  bad  road,  I  came  to  a  tavern,  where  accom- 
modations were  to  be  had  for  man  and  horse.  I  enjoyed 
myself  in  this  situation  much  better,  since  my  other  en- 
tertainment had  been  so  disagreeable.  I  stayed  at  this 
house  until  noon  ;  when  I  found  myself  refreshed  with 
food  and  sleep,  I  again  pursued  my  journey.  The  next 
day,  I  arrived  at  a  town  called  Londonderry,  where  the 
father  of  a  class-mate  of  mine  lived,  on  whom  I  called,  and 
to  my  great  satisfaction,  found  the  son  at  his  father's.  I 
told  them  my  intention  of  going  to  sea,  and  the  reason  why 
I  had  left  College.  They  tried  to  persuade  me  to  relin- 
quish my  purpose,  but  when  they  found  me  fixed,  the  okl 
gentleman  wrote  to  some  of  his  acquaintance  in  Newbu- 
ry port,  to  befriend  me  in  my  pursuit. 


40  MEMOIRS  OF 

Intending  to  sell  my  horse,  saddle  and  bridle^  and  with 
the  avails  to  prepare  myself  for  sea,  I  here  found  the  mark- 
et for  horses  so  low,  that  a  sale  for  him  would  not  be  easily 
obtained,  without  great  loss  ;  I  therefore  concluded  to 
send  my  horse  back  to  my  father.  I  arrived  at  Newbury- 
port  and  delivered  my  letter  of  introduction  to  Capt.  M'- 
Hurd,  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  This  man  kept  a  house 
for  boarders  and  lodgers ;  I  accordingly  put  up  with  him. 
Not  finding  any  privateers  going  to  sea  soon,  I  concluded 
to  go  in  a  packet,  which  had  a  letter  of  marque,  to  France. 
Having  no  doctor  engaged,  I  undertook  to  act  in  that  ca- 
pacity ;  and  after  obtaining  the  assistance,  advice  and  di- 
rection of  an  old  practitioner  in  physic,  together  with 
marks  set  on  each  parcel  of  medicine,  I  thought  myself 
tolerably  well  qualified  to  perform  the  office  of  a  physici- 
an on  board  the  ship.  We  did  not  sail  till  the  first  day  of 
January,  1783.  When  I  lost  sight  of  America,  I  cannot 
say  but  what  my  feelings  were  more  disagreeably  affected 
than  I  expected.  Those  attachments  which  we  form  in 
childhood,  to  places,  to  persons  and  things,  are  pretty 
strong,  I  believe,  in  the  minds  of  all ;  and  none  can  give 
them  up  without  a  struggle. 

Soon  after  we  had  lost  sight  of  land,  I  began  to  grow  in- 
tolerably sea-sick,  which  continued  without  intermission 
for  four  days.  This  is  a  species  of  sickness,  though  not 
dangerous,  yet  as  disagreeable  to  bear  as  the  most  violent 
disorder  to  which  the  human  constitution  is  subject.  This 
served,  in  a  great  measure,  to  cool  my  ardor  for  spending 
my  days  on  the  salt  water.  On  the  fifth  day  I  began  to 
feel  more  at  ease  ;  the  motion  of  the  vessel  was  not  so  irk- 
some ;  my  appetite  began  to  recover,  which  before  was 
quite  gone,  We  made  the  island  of  Sable,  lying  in  4-5^ 
north  latitude,  where  we  went  on  shore.  This  island  is  a 
dreary  barren  place,  about  thirty  miles  in  length.  Some 
wild  horses  and  hogs  were  placed  on  this  spot,  for  the  sup- 
port of  seamen  who  might  be  cast  away.  Accidents  of 
this  kind  being  very  common  here,  on  account  of  the 
shoals  extending  from  its  shores  at  a  great  distance  into 
the  sea.  Here  was  likewise  a  small  hut,  a  porridge  pot, 
?nd  fire -wood,  flint  and  tinder-box.     Here,  the  sailors  re- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  1 1 

counted  many  circumstances  of  the  marvellous,  represent.- 
ing  this  as  the  abode  of  spirits,  hobgoblins,  £^c.  They  af- 
firmed with  much  positive  assuriince,  that  many  famiiies 
had  attempted  living  here,  induced  by  great  rewards  from 
government,  but  all  their  attempts  were  in  vain,  owing  to 
sights  and  noises,  which  had  disturbed  them..  It  was  said 
that  this  island,  in  time  of  an  easterly  storm,  would  shake 
with  great  violence,  which  I  was  rather  induced  to  be- 
lieve, because  a  natural  reason  can  be  assigned  for  this 
phenomenon.  Leaving  this  place,  we  proceeded  on  our 
voyage,  till  the  eighth  day  of  our  departure,  when,  about 
10  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  man  at  the  mast  head  cried 
out,  a  sail  1  a  s£.il  was  discovered  a  head  ;  we  hove  to,  in 
order  to  see  which  way  she  was  going.  We  soon  found 
her  making  from  us  with  all  her  force.  We  put  about 
and  made  sail  after  her,  till  about  sunset.  We  found  her 
a  merchant's  brig  from  New-York,  bound  to  London,  with 
pearl-ash,  commanded  by  one  Pratt.  After  v/e  had  man- 
ned our  prize,  we  pursued  our  rout,  vvithout  any  matciial 
occurrence,  till  the  twenty-third. 

About  1 1  o'clock  in  the  morning,  we  espied  a  sail  astern, 
v/hich  we  soon  saw  was  in  pursuit  of  us ;  we  made  all  the 
sail  we  could,  to  run  from  her,  and  found  she  carried  to 
it  (a  sea  term  for  not  taking  in  sail)  through  some  pretty 
severe  squalls.  We  lost  sight  of  her  about  sunset :  we 
made  an  island  on  the  coast  of  France,  pronounced  in  the 
French  language,  Graw — how  they  spell  it,  I  do  not  re- 
collect. We  came  to  under  this  island,  and  fired  for  a 
pilot  One  soon  came  off  to  us  :  about  I  o'clock  at  night, 
we  got  under  way  again.  This  pilot  Vvas  the  first  person 
I  ever  saw  wearing  wooden  shoes  ;  his  dress  and  appear- 
ance were  miserable  ;  the  use  of  the  knife  and  fork  was 
unknown  to  him.  He  was  invited  into  the  cainn,  and  vic- 
tuals set  before  him  ;  he  felt  himself  in  such  an  awkward 
situation,  that,  instead  of  eating,  he  fihed  his  pockets  v.itli 
hard  bread,  and  went  on  deck.  This  is  the  situation  of 
the  peasantry,  though  not  in  quite  so  deplorable  a  condi- 
tion, through  France,  so  far  as  I  had  opportunity  of  ob- 
serving. About  10  o'clock  the  next  morning,  we  made 
Bjellisle,  and  soon  after,  saw  a  sail  st-\nding  for  us,  rio-hr 
D  2 


4  3  MEMOIRS  OF 

R-hcad.  We  thought  her  the  same  that  pursued  us  the 
day  prccedinp; ;  she  proved  to  be  the  same.  She  >vas  a 
Ltij^i^er,  carryinp^  12  six  pounders,  and  was  chasini^  a  brig 
moiintiii£^  6  guns.  We  soon  passed  the  brig,  and  speak- 
in,^  with  her,  found  her  from  Boston,  bound  to  Nantz.  We 
entreated  her  to  put  about  with  us,  and  look  at  the  Lug- 
gei*,  which,  by  this  time,  \vas  hove  to,  waiting  for  us.  All 
our  entreaties  were  in  vain  ^  she  ran  in  under  the  fort  of 
Bellisle.  We  carried  18  guns,  but  unfortunately,  ten  of 
thern  were  wood,  so  that  little  advantage  could  be  expect- 
ed from  them.  We  hauled  up  our  courses,  put  up  our 
boarding  netting,  cleared  our  decks,  lit  our  matches,  and 
made  all  ready  for  action.  We  bad  on  board  twenty-one 
men  besides  the  prisoners.  The  thirteen  stripes  of  the 
United  States  wxre  flying  ;  but  the  Lugger,  as  yet,  shew- 
ed no  colors.  We  came  so  near  as  to  hail — she  answer- 
ed in  French — and  after  understanding  we  came  from  A- 
inerica  and  were  bound  to  Nantz,  she  offered  us  a  pilot, 
and  when  we  told  them  vve  had  a  pilot  already  on  board, 
she  affected  net  to  understand,  but  made  towards  us  with 
a  pretended  design  of  accommodating  us  with  a  pilot. 
Not  more  than  ten  men  were  to  be  seen  on  her  deck.  By 
this  time.,  she  was  sufficiently  near  to  discover  those  on 
board  by  their  countenances.  Mr.  Severe,  our  first  mate^ 
Imcw  the  commander  of  the  Lugger  to  be  a  man  from  the 
isle  of  Jersey,  having  been  taken  by  him  the  preceding 
year.  The  mate  vociferated  like  a  stentor,  "  give  them 
a  gun  !  give  them  a  gun  1"  We  fired,  but  so  strongly  pre- 
possessed were  the  gunners,  that  the  Lu;^gei'  was  a  French- 
man, that  they  pointed  over  her,  and  did  her  no  damage. 
She  ported  her  helm,  and  fell  astern  as  much  as  half  a 
mile,  expecting  that  we  fought  with  18  guns.  We  kept 
on  our  course — seeing  this,  she  made  all  the  sail  possible 
after  us,  hung  out  the  English  colors,  and  her  deck  be- 
came instantly  filled  with  men.  She  first  came  up  on  our 
windv/ard  board,  but  now  altered  her  intention,  and  came 
round  on  our  lee-side.  We  began  to  fire  stern  chases  dt- 
them,  and  they  returned  our  salute  with  bow  chases. 
While  Mr.  Severe  was  elevating  the  gun  at  our  bow  he 
received  a  swivel  ball,  rvhich  carried  away  his  right  cheek?. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  43 

went  through  and  broke  his  right  aiTn,and  two  of  his  ribs. 
We  caught  him  up,  and  carried  him  into  the  cock-pit, 
where  I  dressed  his  wounds,  and  at  the  desire  of  one  Boot- 
man,  a  passenger,  left  Mr.  Severe  in  his  care,  and  relu'-n- 
ed  on  deck.  Our  ship  was  thinly  manned,  and  the  help 
of  every  hand  w^as  felt.  A  chest  of  loaded  small  arms 
stood  on  the  quarter  deck,  where  I  took  my  station.  The 
Lugger,  by  this  time,  was  grappled  to  our  ship,  and  at- 
tempted sword  in  hand  to  cut  away  our  hoarding  nettings. 
Every  man  was  ordered  to  his  boarding  pike,  and  for 
ten  minutes,  the  conflict  was  truly  sharp,  but  the  issue  was 
in  our  favor.  They  retreated  on  board  their  own  vessel, 
the  guns  were  their  next  resort.  With  cannon  and  small 
arms  they  poured  in  upon  us  a  shower  of  balls,  and  we  en- 
deavored to  puy  them  in  like  kind,  to  the  full  amount  of 
our  receipt,  so  that  a  balance  should  be  left  in  our  favor, 
and  not  against  us.  The  captain  and  myself  had  fired 
neurly  ull  the  small  arms  which  were  loaded.  The  com- 
mander of  the  Lugger  kept  bellowing  from  his  quarter 
deck,  that  if  we  did  not  strike,  he  would  give  us  no  quar- 
ter. I  took  a  blunderbuss,  which  remained  loaded,  and 
taking  aim  very  leisurely,  at  the  mouth  of  his  trumpet,  let 
fly.  I  believe  this  did  his  business  ;  at  least,  I  heard  no 
more  of  this  bravado.  Twice  more  did  they  attempt  to 
cutaway  our  boarding  nettings,  but,  to  as  little  effect  as  at 
first.  We  by  this  time,  had  disabled  their  fore-top -mast, 
and  carried  away  their  gib-boom.  They  cut  from  us,  and 
made  all  the  sail  possible  towards  the  Penmarks,  which 
were  hidden  and  dangerous  rocks,  lying  under  water, 
where  they  expected  wc  should  not  follow  them.  In  this 
conjecture  they  were  right.  We  arrived  the  same  day  in 
Khe  river  Loire,  and  came  to  an  anchor  at  a  town  called 
Penbeef,  thirty  miles  below  the  city  of  Nantz.  The  next 
day  I  went  up  to  the  city,  and  took  lodgings  at  one  mad- 
ame  M.  Harty's,  a  house  of  general  resort  for  the  Ameri- 
cans. To  undertake  a  particular  description  of  the  places 
through  which  I  went,  will  be  less  interesting  than  the 
accounts  of  travellers  of  more  observation;  being  tco 
young,  at  that  time,  to  make  those  remarks,  which  would 
serve  to  throv»^  any  light  upon  your  previous  knowledge  cf 
those  pir.ces.  by  the  information  of  other  authors.  . 


44  MEMOIRS  OF 

Soon  after  my  arrival,  I  had  an  advantageous  offer  of 
going  as  Doctor's  second  mate  in  a  ship  bound  to  the  East- 
Indies.  I  accepted  of  the  offer,  and  was  preparing  to  go  ; 
but  the  ship,  which  lay  at  Penrine,  ten  miles  below  Pen- 
beef,  had  order  suddenly  to  sail,  and  so  left  me  behind. 

We  received  our  dividend  of  the  prize  money,  which 
was  42  guineas  each.  Being  possest  with  so  much  money, 
and  some  time  on  hand,  I  determined  to  take  a  short  ex- 
cursion through  the  country,  in  order  to  see  what  of 
France  my  finances  would  admit.  I  accordingly  set  out, 
with  two  more  Americans,  for  Angers,  from  thence  to 
Brest,  from  there  to  L'Orient,  and  then  back  to  Nantz.  I 
r/as  absent  on  this  excursion  about  three  weeks,  if  I  re- 
memberx  right.  As  nothing  more  occurred  than  what 
happens  to  travellers  generally,  I  shall  not  take  up  your 
time  in  giving  you  the  uninteresting  detail. 

When  I  returned  to  our  ship,  I  found  some  alterations 
had  taken  place  in  my  absence,  which  proved  a  source  of 
the  utmost  mortification  to  me  afterwards.  The  prize 
brig  had  been  bought  by  the  Captain,  and  fitted  out  for 
Lisbon  ;  on  board  of  which  went  the  first  mate  as  com- 
mander, and  one  Kenne  was  engaged  to  succeed  him  in 
our  ship.  The  third  mate  supposed  this,  by  the  right  of 
succession,  belonged  to  him,  and  accordingly,  desired  me 
to  write  to  the  Captain,  who  was  at  Nantz,  in  his  behalf. 
I  did  according  to  his  desire,  which  I  was  induced  to  do 
by  the  drunken  irregular  conduct  of  Kenne,  who  had  dis- 
gusted the  whole  crew,  he  having  proved  a  worthless 
wretch.  This  act  of  mine  was  the  cause  of  a  mortal  en- 
mity towards  me,  which  he  was  but  too  successful  in  shev/- 
ing.  When  the  Captain  came  on  board,  I  found  his  feel- 
ings were  cooled  towards  me.  However,  no  open  breach 
as  yet  took  place.  We  sailed  for  America  some  time  in 
April,  and  being  becalmed  off  the  western  isles,  we  went 
on  shore  at  St.  Michaels ;  when  we  came  on  shore,  we 
saw  a  great  concourse  of  people  about  half  a  mile  distant. 
Our  curiosity  led  us  to  see  what  was  the  occasion  of  this 
assemblage  :  when  we  came  to  the  spot  we  found  a  Ne- 
gro bound  to  a  cannon,  and  a  man  standing  by  with  a  stake 
in  his  hand,  sharpened  atone  end.   ,  The  people  were  For- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  4o 

tugucse,  and  consequently,  we  could  not  understand  theif 
lanp^uage,  nor  learn  the  occasion  of  what  we  saAv,  only  from 
conjecture.  The  Negro  appeared  to  be  in  great  distress, 
with  fearful  apprehensions.  The  dreadful  operation  of 
empaling  soon  began,  which  consisted  in  driving  the  stake 
through  his  body,  from  one  end  to  the  other,  till  it  came 
out  a  little  above  his  shoulders.  The  agonies,  which  he 
manifested  by  writhings  and  hedious  yells,  had  such  an  ef- 
fect on  my  mind,  that  I  almost  fainted.  The  wind  breez- 
ing up,  we  soon  returned  on  board,  to  my  great  satisfac- 
tion. I  could  not,  for  a  number  of  days,  get  the  scene  of 
this  horrid  action  out  of  my  mind  ;  and  even  now,  sir,  ray 
blood  recoils  with  horror  at  the  recollection  I  What 
strange  infatuation !  That  man,  who  is  placed  in  this  state 
of  dependence,  instead  of  granting  that  help  which  the 
voice  of  nature  calls  for,  should  exert  his  power  to  make 
a  fellow  creature  more  miserable,  than  to  be  left  to  the 
savage  beasts  of  prey. 

We  sailed  from  hence,  and  I  soon  began  to  peceive  that 
Kenne  was  intriguing  against  me,  by  holding  conferences 
often  with  Jack,  the  cabin  boy.  One  day  it  was  said,  that 
wine  had  been  clandestinely  handed  out  of  the  cabin  to  tvv'o 
men,  who  appeared  to  be  drunk.  I  was  ordered,  in  a  vei  y 
peremptory  manner,  to  leave  the  cabin,  and  remove  my 
chest  into  the  forepeak.  I  moved  according  to  order,  but 
you  can  scarce  conceive  the  emotions  of  my  mind  on  the 
occasion.     No  reasons  were  offered  for  this  order. 

The  conduct  of  the  Captain  before,  had  been  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  gain  my  warmest  esteem.  I  felt  those  emo- 
tions of  friendship  for  him  which  would  hate  carried  me 
almost  any  length  to  serve  him. 

To  receive  this  treatment  from  him,  and,  as  I  suppos- 
ed, by  the  influence  of  a  low,  dirty  scoundrel,  added  a  poig- 
nancy to  the  sting  of  disappointment,  which  is  more  easily 
conceived  by  a  mind  of  sensibility  than  language  can  de- 
scribe. For  the  Captain  to  suppose  it  possible,  that  I 
could  be  actuated  by  so  base  a  motive,  as  to  hand  his  wine 
clandestinely  to  any  of  the  crew,  was  a  sacrilegious  profa- 
nation of  the  feelings  of  my  heart. 


46  MEMOIRS  OF 

*  All  intercourse  between  the  Captain  and  myself  V^'as  at 
an  end.  I  often  had  visits  from  Kenne,  who,  in  the  most 
arrogant,  insulting  manner,  triumphed  over  me  ;  and  it 
was  well  for  him  that  I  was  sick  with  the  small-pox  at  this 
lime.  About  the  time  I  was  recovering  from  this  disor- 
der, I  fouod  by  the  noise,  that  a  number  of  the  crew  was 
drunk  on  deck.  The  Captain  came  down  into  the  fore- 
peak,  and  clapped  me  into  irons  ;  being  in  a  great  passion, 
he  accused  me  of  breaking  open  a  box  of  wine  and  giving 
it  to  the  men,  in  order  to  revenge  the  affront  of  being  turn- 
ed out  of  the  cabin.  I  endeavored  to  expostulate,  but  in 
the  room  of  being  heard,  I  received  a  brutal  kick  on  my 
head.  All  this  did  not  wean  my  affection  from  the  Cap- 
tain. I  considered  him  a  dupe  lo  the  low  intrigues  of 
those  wretches  who  were  unworthy  his  notice. 

We  arrived  at  Newburyport,  where  I  left  the  ship,  and 
put  up  at  a  boarding  house.  Here  I  remained  three  days, 
about  entering  on  board  of  a  sloop  bound  to  the  West-In- 
dies. I  had  removed  all  my  things  out  of  the  ship,  and 
had  no  further  communication  with  any  one  belonging  to 
her.  I  intended  a  further  investigation  of  the  treatment  I 
had  received.  While  I  was  contemplating  these  circum- 
stances, I  was  arrested  in  the  street,  and  carried  before  a 
justice  of  the  peace,  and  there  found  to  my  surprise,  the 
cabin  boy,  Kenne,  and  an  Irishman,  who  testified  that  one 
Bradley,  who  had  before  run  away,  and  could  not  be  found, 
told  them  that  I  gave  him  wine  out  of  the  cabin  ;  that  af- 
terwards, I  broke  open  a  chest  of  wine,  and  handed  him 
the  bottles  ;  and  likewise  broke  open  a  bale  of  silk,  and  hid 
one  piece  of  it ;  all  which  was  done  through  a  revenge- 
ful disposition.  Something  worth  observing  took  place 
on  their  side,  viz.  Kenne  and  the  cabin-boy  were  those, 
who  made  the  discovery  of  the  wine  box  being  broken 
open  ;  of  the  silk  bale  being  broken,  and  the  place  in 
which  the  piece  of  silk  was  hid  ;  it  being  where  no  man 
would  have  mistrusted,  Avho  did  not  know  beforehand  :  it 
was  concealed  in  a  cask,  once  in  my  use.  Kenne  was  the 
man  who  informed  the  Captain,  that  the  wine  was  gone 
out  of  the  cabin  ;  and  as  he  was  half  drunk  the  greater 
part  of  the  time,  from  his  first  coming  on  board  till  we 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  47 

arrived,  I  never  doubted  in  my  own  mind,  what  became  of 
the  wine.  And  as  for  Bradley's  tellifig  the  story,  which 
they  related,  I  knew  it  was  false,  unless  it  was  done  by  a 
preconcerted  plan.  However,  I  was  committed  to  jail, 
where  I  lay  some  time,  how  long  I  do  not  remember,  and 
■was  then  turned  out  in  a  manner  as  unaccountable.* 

By  this  time  all  my  money  and  clothes  were  gone  I 
know  not  where  ;  I  never  saw  them  more.  The  assis- 
tance of  my  friend  Ripley  was  not  wanting  to  embellish 
this  scene,  who  was  in  Newburyport  at  this  time.  My  sit- 
uation did  not  aiford  me  the  opportunity  of  calling  those 
to  a  legal  account,  who  had  confined  me,  contrary  to  law, 
and  dismissed  me  in  such  a  clandestine  manner.  I  re- 
turned to  my  father*s,  sunken  and  discouraged  ;  the  world 
appeared  a  gloomy  chaos  ;  the  sun  arose  to  cast  a  sickly 
glimmer  on  surrounding  objects;  the  flowers  of  the  field 
insulted  my  feelings  with  their  gaiety  and  splendor  ;  the 
Irolicksome  lamb,  the  playful  kitten,  and  the  antic  colt, 
were  beheld  with  those  painful  emotions,  which  are  be- 
yond description.  Shall  all  nature,  said  I,  smile  with  joy  ; 
shall  the  brute  creation  break  out  into  irregular  trans- 
ports, by  the  overflowings  of  pleasing  sensations,  whilst  I 
am  shut  out  from  even  the  dim  rays  of  hope  ?  The  com- 
parison between  my  situation,  and  that  of  the  rest  of  intel- 
ligent nature,  was  so  much  against  me,  that  I  could  not 
bear  the  ideas  which  this  brought  into  view,  without  groan- 
ing with  pain,  under  the  pressure  of  the  load. 

Those  who  had  before  pursued  me,  with  their  unabat- 
ing  enmity,  proclaimed  their  triumph.  I  found  a  censo- 
rious world  little  desirous  of  inquiring  into  circumstances. 
It  was  sufficient  for  them  to  have  such  facts,  as  served  to 
raise  a  slanderous  report ;  and  they  felt  easy,  ^vithout  giv- 
ing themselves  the  trouble  of  inquiring  into  the  causes, 
why  those  facts  existed,  and  the  circumstances  attending 
them. 

*  The  writer  of  this  saw  the  author  at  Newbur^-port,  at  this 
period.  The  Captain,  after  reading-  the  memoirs,  told  the  wTiter, 
tliat  Burroug-hs  had  given  a  much  more  correct  history  of  the  voy- 
age to  and  from  France,  than  he  was  capable  of  doing  himself  ;  and 
that  he  was  pretty  well  convinced  Kenne  was  the  rogue. 


48  MEMOIRS  OF 

CHAP.  VI. 

Descend,  bland  Pity,  from  thy  native  sky. 
Come  with  thy  moving  plaint  and  melting  eye. 

After  I  had  remained  at  my  father's  house  about  one 
year,  without  attending  to  any  kind  of  business,  I  conclud- 
ed, from  what  reason  I  was  capable  of  exercising,  that  it 
ill  became  me,  as  a  man,  to  remain  thus  inattentive  and 
useless.  I  determined  to  enter  into  business  of  some 
kind  ;  and  as  a  school  was  the  only  employment  which  im- 
mediately offered,  I  entered  into  that  calling.  At  a  town 
called  Haverhill,  thirty  miles  from  Hanover,  I  engaged  to 
teach  an  English  school  for  four  months.  No  sooner  was 
I  seated  in  the  business  here,  than  I  found  my  friend  Rip- 
ley busy  in  his  endeavors  to  throw  me  out  of  employment. 
He  came  to  Haverhill,  and  in  that  plausible  manner,  of 
which  he  was  master,  stated  the  evil  consequences  of  con- 
tinuing me  in  that  business.  The  base  examples  I  should 
set  before  the  children  who  attended  my  school  j  and  al- 
though I  did  veiy  well  now,  yet,  notwithstanding  my  sub- 
tilty  to  conceal  my  disposition?  I  should,  ere  long,  do  some- 
thing that  would  make  them  repent  of  their  credulity,  and 
expose  myself  to  their  universal  censure.  His  represen- 
tation had  but  too  much  effect  on  the  people.  He  was  a 
clergyman,  and  consequently  must  speak  the  truth.  They 
were  afraid — they  kept  their  children  chiefly  at  home,  for 
fear  of  some  terrible  explosion,  which  had  been  foretold 
by  their  spiritual  leader.  With  indignation  I  quitted  them 
and  the  school. 

I  then  took  a  school  in  a  town  called  Orford,  eighteen 
miles  below  Haverhill,  and  twelve  miles  from  Hanover. 
Fortunately  lor  me,  I  had  kept  this  school  long  enough  to 
get  established,  before  Mr.  R — y  knew  where  I  was,  and 
of  course,  his  efforts  for  my  overthrow  here  were  ineffec- 
tual. I  continued  this  school  until  the  expiration  of  the 
time  agreed  for,  to  the  universal  satisfaction  of  all  coiv- 
cemed.  I  began  this  school  in  November,  and  ended  with 
the  month  of  February.  The  usual  time  for  schooling,  in 
all  the  towns  through  the  eastern  states,  is  only  in  the  v,  in- 
ter, some  few  populous  towns  excepted. 


STEPHEN  BURRCyGHS.  49 

Whilst  I  taught  this  school,  I  became  acquainted  with 
a  woman,  who  was  suppoBcd  to  be  a  widow,  possessinc; 
those  amiable  qualifications  calculated  to  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  every  admirer  of  the  fair  part  of  icreation.  I  paid 
strict  attention  to  g-ain  her  affections,  and  flattered  myself 
I  had  in  a  measure  succeeded.  After  the  school  vvas  end- 
ed, I  returned  to  my  father's.  I  had  not  been  long  with 
my  father,  before  I  had  a  visit  from  Joseph  Hunlington, 
who  was  a  member  of  Dartmouth  College.  He  came 
in  a  sleigh,  and  brought  a  class-mate,  who  w?.s  of  that  pe- 
culiar turn  of  mind,  as  to  be  a  butt  for  the  ridicule  of  all 
the  wits  in  College  ;  and  it  was  certain,  he  would  be  lead 
into  all  the  scrapes  then  in  vogue.  Hunti'H  ton  proposed 
to  me  to  take  a  ride  that  evening  in  his  sleigh,  telling  me 

at  the  same  time,  he  had  brought  A with  him  to  steal 

a  bee-hive.     For  the   diversion  of  drawing  A into  a 

ludicrous  situation,  I  iminediately  consented  to  be  one  of 
the  party.  We  accordingly  all  got  into  the  slei:^h,  and 
drove  away  alrut  two  miles,   when,  coming  near  where 

bees  were  kept,  we  sent  A after  them,  who  was  ever 

prompt  to  do  what  he  was  set  about  by  any  one.  He  soon 
returned  with  a  hive  to  the  sieigh,  when  we  drove  off  with 
great  speed  to  the  College,  where  I  foun-J  a  number  as- 
sembled, ready  to  partuke  of  the  repast  which  the  iioney 
aiforded.  All  were  regaled  with  this  delicious  morsel 
but  myself,  having  an  insuperable  antipathy  to  honey, 
which  wholly  incapacitates  me  from  ever  making  use  of  it. 

I  am  now,  sir,  at  a  place  in  my  narrative  which  has 
caused  me  pain  in  relating,  because  I  view  my  conduct  en- 
tirely wrong,  and  my  mode  of  reasoning  upon  such-  sub- 
jects, at  that  age,  quite  lidicuious.  For  some  unaccoun- 
table reason  or  other,  youth  are  carried  away  vrith  false* 
notions  of  right  and  wrong.  I  know,  for  instance,  that 
Huntington  possessed  those  principles  of  integrity,  that 
no  consideration  v/ould  have  induced  him  to  deprive  anoth- 
er, by  stealth,  of  any  species  of  property,  except  fruit,  bees, 
pigs,  and  poultiy.  And  why  ii  is  considered  by  youth  gei> 
erally,  that  depriving  another  of  those  articles  is  less  crim- 
inal, than  stealing  any  other  kird  of  property-  I  cannot 
tell ;  but  it  is  a  fact,  that  almost  all  do  esteem  this  so  ;  and 


50  MEMOIRS  OF 

robbing  others  of  those  articles  is  thought  to  be  only  the 
playfuL^vantonness  of  thoughtless  inexperience.  I  will 
ask  you,  sir,  whether  our  treatment  of  those  things  does 
not  give  too  much  reason  to  convince  youth,  that  we  view 
them  in  that  light  ourselves. 

We  parted  at  1 1  o'clock  that  evening,  and  I  returned 
home.  The  man  who  lost  the  bees,  suspected  the  schol- 
ars as  the  authors  of  this  depredation,  and  accordingly, 
went  to  the  governors  to   enter  his   cornplcdnt.     Search 

was  made,  and  by   the  inattention  of  A ,  a  discovery 

was  effected.  It  was  found,  likewise,  in  the  discovery, 
that  I  was  of  the  party.  This  was  a  fine  bone  for  my 
friend  R — y  tp  pick.  He  did  not  fail  to  fulfil  the  office  of 
a  clergyman,  by  setting  his  face  against  iniquity.  He  v/as 
determined  I  should  be  made  a  public   example.     After 

Huntington  and  A had  settled  with  the  owner  of  the 

bees,  R — y  represented  S)  him  the  necessity  of  not  mak- 
ing any  settlement  with  me,  but  prosecute  in  tiie  law,  and 
there  have  it  terminate.  Coffin  v/as  ready  to  back  this  re- 
presentation with  all  his  oratory.  They  succeeded  ;  I  was 
informed  into  the  circumstance^;  and  as  another  circum- 
stance had  now  taV;en  place,  which  co-operated  with  this, 
it  is  necessary  I  should  go  back  a  little  in  my  narrative, 
and  bring  forv/ard  this  event  to  the  present  time.  The 
lady,  of  whom  mention  has  been  made,  and  who  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  widow,  I  slill  addressed  on  the  terms  of 
courtship  :  matters  between  us  had  proceeded  to  consid- 
erable length.  I  went  to  visit  her  one  day,  after  1  had  left 
Orford,  and  coming  to  a  neighboi'  of  her's  about  six  rods 
dibtant,  I  saw  a  man  standing  in  the  door  of  her  house,  a 
stranger,  whom  I  never  before  saw  ;  and  upon  inquiring 
V.  ho  he  was,  received  information  that  her  husband  was 
alive,  and  had  come  home.  This  intelligence  was  like 
heavenV artillery,  charged  with  tenfold  vim.  The  wheels 
of  nature  ran  backward  I  The  blood  curdled  in  my  veins, 
and  I  fell  almost  senseless  into  a  chair  1  I  was  aroused 
from  tliis  stupor,  by  female  shrieks  !  Howlings  of  bitter 
lamentation  assailed  my  ears  ***********  God  of 
nature  I  what  greater  scenes  of  distress  urc  reserved  in 


:^ 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  ^  I 

store  ?  What  sharper  arrows  vet  remain  in  thy   quiver  ? 

************  *'*  *********** 

May  Ihide  myself-vvith  a  mantle  of  darkness,  and  retire 
from  the  stage  of  action,  into  eternal  obscurity. 


CHAP.  VII. 

"  Fir'd  is  the  muse  ?  And  let  the  muse  be  fir' J, 

"  Who  not  inflamM,  when  what  he  speuks,  he  feels  ." 

V  ?  EARY  ^vith  life,  I  returned  to  my  father's,  made 
iome  small  arrangements,  and  left  the  country.  One  pis' 
tareen  was  all  the  ready  cash  I  had  on  hand,  and  the  sud- 
denness with  Y.'hich  I  departed,  deprived  me  of  a  chance 
to  raise  more.  Travelling  on  leisurely,  I  had  time  for 
reflection.  ^Vhat,  said  I,  again  an  outcast  amt5ng  man- 
kind ?  Where  am  I  going  ?  What  can  I  do  with  myself 
in  this  world,  where  I  meet  with  nothing  but  disappoint- 
ment and  chagrin  ?  True  it  is,  I  am  an  outcast,  but  who 
cares  for  that  ?  If  I  will  not  use  means  for  my  own  pres- 
ervation and  prosperity,  what  am  I  to  expect  ?  Is  it  to  be 
supposed  that  whining  over  misfortunes  is  calculated  to 
make  them  better  ?  No.,  by  no  means.  Then  arouse,  said 
I,  for  shame  ;  usqisuch  means  as  you  have  in  your  power. 
The  greater  embarrassments,  the  more  honor  in  over- 
coming them  ;  lay  aside  the  idea  of  being  any  longer  a 
child,  and  become  a  man.  If  others  endeavor  to  throw 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  your  prosperity,  show  them  that 
you  can  rise  above  them. 

This  dialogue  with  myself  was  productive  of  the  most 
-  py  effects  ;  I  began  to  look  about  me,  to  see  what  was 
:;3  done  in  my  present  situation,  to  what  business  I  could 
■/■A  my  attention. 

The  practice  of  Law.  which  would  have  been  most  to 

,  mind,  I  could  not  undertake,  until  I  had   spent  some 

le  in  the  study,  which  Avouid  be  attended  with  expense 

.  beyond  n.y  abilities  ;  therefore,  this  object  must  be 

,uid  a^ide.     Physic  was  under  the  saiTie  embarrassments  : 

business  of  the  mercantile  line,  I  cculd  not  pursue  for 


52  MEMOIRS  OF 

want  of  a  capital;  and  even  a  school,  at  this  time  of  the 
year,  was  hardly  to  be  obtained. 

Business  of  some  kind  I  must  enter  into,  and  ihat  im- 
mediately, in  order  to  answer  the  present  calls  of  nature. 
And  what  can  that  be  ?  said  I  ;  have  not  I  enumerated  all 
the  callings,  which  are  profitable  for  me  to  attend  to  ?  I 
might  possibly  write  in  an  office,  or  tend  in  a  store,  on 
wages,  had  I  any  person  to  recommend  or  introduce  me 
into  that  business.  But  what  can  now  be  done  ?  A  strang- 
er— moneyless — and  friendless.  There  is  one  thing,  said 
contrivance,  which  you  may  do  ;  and  it  will  answer  your 
purpose  ;— preach  1  I  Preach  ?  What  a  pretty  fellow  am 
I  for  a  preacher  !  A  pretty  character  mine,  to  tickle  the 
ears  of  a  grave  audience  1  Run  away  from  my  own  home 
for  being  connected  in  robbing  a  bee  house,  and  for  my  at- 
tention to  a  married  woman  ;  having  been  through  scenes 
of  tumult,  during  my  whole  career,  since  I  have  exhibited 
on  the  active  stage  of  life.  Besides  all  this,  what  an  ap- 
pearance should  I  make  in  my  present  dress  ?  which  con- 
sisted of  a  light  grey  coat,  with  silver  plated  buttons,  green 
vest,  and  red  velvet  breeches.  This,  said  I,  is  a  curious 
dress  for  me  to  offer  myself  in,  as  a  preacher  ;  and  I  am 
by  no  means  able  to  obtain  a  different  suit. 

These  objections,  truly,  are  weighty  ;  many  difficulties 
must  be  surmounted,  in  order  to  enter  into  this  business; 
but  as  this  is  the  only  kind  you  can  attend  to,  said  I  to 
iTTiyself:  under  present  circumstances,  you  can  but  be 
destitute  of  resource,  if  you  make  the  trial  and  do  not 
succeed.  At  any  rate,  it  is  best  to  see  what  can  be 
done  ;  therefore,  in  order  to  obviate  the  first  difficulty,  viz. 
of  disagreeable  reports  following  you,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  prevent,  as  much  as  possible,  your  being  known,  where 
you  offer  yourself  to  preach;  and  in  order  to  prevent  that 
you  must  change  your  name.  Tiiis  being  done,  you  must 
!^o  some  distance,  where  you  are  not  personally  known  ; 
iind  the  probability  is,  tiuit  you  c-\n  continue  in  such  busi- 
ricss,  till  some  opportunity  may  offer  for  your  entering  in- 
to othjr  employment.  As  for  your  dress  you  cimnot  alter 
that  at  present,  and  therefore,  yv>u  must  make  the  best  of  it 
you  can.     I  do  not  think  it  will  be  an  in-iurniountable  obsta- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  53 

e  ;  if  you  fid!  in  one  attempt,  mind  not  lobe  discouivr;ed, 

t  repeat  the  trial,  until  you  bucc?ed. 

After  I  h?i<l  held  this  parley  -with  myself,  I  was  deter- 
mined to  follow  the  fore^Toing  plan,  according  to  the  ber,L 
of  my  abiJilies.  I  exchanged  my  horse  for  another,  much 
worse,  c.nd  received  three  dollars  for  the  difference.  This 
furnished  me  with  money  for  m.y  immediate  expenses  in 
travelling.  I  pursued  my  course  dov>n  Connecticut  river 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  judging  th?vt  l\v  this 
time,  I  wasj&r  enough  from  home  to  remain  unknown.  I 
co'ncl'jded  to  begin  my  operations.  Hearing  of  a  place 
called  Ludlow,  not  far  distant,  where  they  v/ere  destitute 
of  a  clergyman,  I  bent  my  course  that  way,  it  being  Satur- 
day, and  intended  to  preach  the  next  day,  if  I  proved  suc- 
cessful. I  arrived  about  noon,  and  put  up  at  the  house  of 
one  Fuller,  whom  I  found  to  be  a  leading  man  in  their  re- 
ligious society.  I  introduced  myself  to  him  as  a  clergy- 
man, and  he  gave  me  an  invitation  to  spend  the  sabbath 
with  them  and  preach.  You  v.ill  readily  conclude  that  I 
did  not  refuse  this  invitation.  The  greatest  obstacle  was 
now  surmounted,  as  I  conceived,  viewing  myself  as  fairly 
introduced  into  the  ministeiMF^l  function.  I  retired  to  rest 
at  the  usual  time,  and^ after  I  had  composed  my  mind  suf- 
ficiently for  reflection,*!  began  to  consider  under  what  sit- 
u"ition  my  affairs  nov/  stood,  and  what  was  to  be  done  under 
present  circumstances.  I  had  engaged  to  preach  on  the 
morrow.  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  tell  you  that  ray  name 
here  w^as  Davis.  People  had  been  notified  that  a  sermon 
would  be  delivered.  This  businef^I  never  had  attempt- 
ed. It  is  true,  the  study  of  divinity  had  come  under  my 
atrention,  together  with  every  other  subject  of  common 
concern,  in  a  cursory  manner.  I  concluded  that  sermon- 
izing would  net  he  so  difficult  as  the  other  exercises  of 
public  worship.  Many  disagreeable  possibilities  arose  in- 
to view.  What,  said  I,  would  be  my  feelings,  should  I 
make  some  egregious  blunder  in  travelling  thii  unbeaten 
road  ?  I  must  be.  exposed  to  the  mci  tifying  consideration 
ot  being  observed  by  a  whole  assembly,  in  this  ridiculous 
essay  to  preach,  and  not  be  able  to  carry  my  attempt  into 
cxeculion  ;  and  all  those  things  possibly  may  li.^poen. 
E  3  " 


5i  MEMOIRS  OF 

Those  consideraUons  made  so  dismal  an  appearance,  tliat 
J  once  concluded  to  get  up,  take  my  horse  privately  out  of 
ihc  stable  and  depart,  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  the  dan- 
,c^crs  which  were  before  me.  But  upon  more  mature  re- 
ilection,  I  found  the  hard  hand  of  necessity  compelled  me 
to  stay.  When  I  awoktr  the  next  morning-,  my  heart  Ijeat 
v.ith  anxious  palpitation  for  the  issue  of  the  day.  I  con- 
sidered this  as  the  most  important  scene  of  my  life — thu'. 
in  a  great  measure,  rny  future  happiness  or  wretchedness 
depended  on  my  conduct  through  this  day.  The  time  for 
assembling  approached  i  I  saw  people  began  to  come  tu- 
gethcr.  ]\Iy  feelings  were  all  in  arms  against  me,  my 
heart  would  almost  leap  into  my  anouth. 

What  a  strange  thing,  said  1,  is  man  I  Why  am  I  thus 
perlurbated  with  these  wliimsical  feelings  ?  1  know  my 
dress  is  against  m.e,  and  v.ill  cause  some  speculation  ;  but 
I  cannot  help  it,  and  why  need  I  afilict  myself  with  disa- 
greeables before  they  arrive  ?  I  endeavored  to  calm  my 
feelings  by  those  reflections.  I  fortified  ray  countenance 
with  all  my  resolution,  and  set  out  with  my  bible  and  psalm 
book  under  my  arm,  those  being  the  only  insignia  of  a  cler- 
gyman about  me.  When  I  made  my  appearance,  I  found 
a  stare  of  universal  siu'priie  at  my  gay  dress,  which  suited 
better  the  character  of  a  beau  than  a  clergyman.  My  eyes 
I  could  not  persuade  myself  to  raise  from  the  ground  till 
I  had  ascended  the  pulpit.  I  was  doubtful  whether  I  had 
the  command  of  my  voice,  or  even  whether  I  had  any 
voice.  I  sat  a  few  moments,  collecting  my  resolution  for 
the  effort  of  beginning :  I  made  the  attempt — I  found  my 
voice  at  command — my  anxiety  was  hushed  in  a  moment, 
my  perturbation  subsided,  and  I  felt  all  the  serenity  of  a 
calm  summer's  morning.  I  went  through  the  exercises 
of  the  forenoon  without  any  difficulty.  No  monarch,  when 
seated  on  the  throne,  had  more  sensible  feelings  of  pros- 
perity, than  what  I  experienced  at  this  time. 

During  the  intermission,  I  heard  the  whisper  in  sv>ift 
circulation  among  the  people,  concerning  my  appearance 
in  such  a  dress.  The  question  was  often  asked  with  great 
emphasis,  "  Who  is  he  r"  but  no  one  was  able  to  give 
those  answers  which  were  saiisfaclorv'.     A  consultation 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  5^; 

/k  place  among  some  leading  members  of  the  society, 
relative  to  hiring  me  to  continue  among  them  as  a  preach- 
er, as  I  had  intimated  to  Mr.  Fuller  that  I  should  he  bil- 
ling to  continue  among  them  in  that  capaciiy,  should  such 
a  matter  meet  Avith  their  approbation.  I  attended  on  the 
afternoon's  exercises  ^vithout  any  singular  occurrence. 
The  meeting  being  dismissed,  and  the  people  retired,  I 
was  informed  by  my  landlord,  that  they  did  not  agree  to 
hire  me  any  longer  ;  accordingly,  I  found  my  business 
here  at  an  end. 

I  was  advised  by  IVIr.  Fuller,  to  make  application  to  ?.Ir, 
Baldwin,  minister  of  Palmer,  about  twenty  miles  distant 
from  Ludlow,  for  information  where  were  vacancies,  and 
for  an  introduction  into  those  vacancies.  I  accordingly  set 
out  for  Palmer  on  Monday  morning,  and  arrived  at  ?.Ir. 
Baldwin's  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  I  intrc- 
duced  myself  to  him  as  a  clergyman  wanting  employment. 
I  saw  he  noticed  my  dress,  but  asked  no  questions.  He 
examined  into  my  education,  knowledge  of  divinity,  tenets, 
Sec.  and  finding  all  agreeing  with  his  ideas  of  orthodoxy, 
he  concluded  to  recommend  me  to  a  town  called  Pelham, 
eighteen  miles  distant  from  Palmer.  The  next  morning 
I  set  off  for  Pelham,  with  a  letter  to  one  Deacon  Gray.  I 
arrived,  and  delivered  my  letter,  and  was  hired,  in  conse= 
quence  of  the  recommendation  of  Mr.  Baldwin,  without 
any  hesitation,  for  four  sabbaths,  five  dollars  a  sabbath  ; 
boarding,  horse-keeping,  &c.  kc. — I  now  found  myself,  in 
some  measure,  settled  in  business.  The  want  of  an  im= 
mediate  relief  to  my  temporary  inconveniences  was  now 
supplied.  I  found  the  family  into  which  I  had  fallen,  to 
be  an  agreeable,  sociable  circle,  and  I  was  much  respected 
in  the  family,  not  only  on  account  of  my  sacerdotal  char- 
acter,  but  likewise  on  account  of  the  ease  with  which  I . 
mixed  with  them,  in  all  their  little  social  enjoyments. 


^'  MEMOIRS  OF 

CKAP.  VIII. 

"  Companion  of  the  wretched  come, 
"  Fi'ir  Hope  !  and  dwell  with  me  awhile  ; 
*'  Thy  heav'nly  presence  gilds  the  g-looni, 
'*'  AHiile  happier  scenes  in  prospect  smile.' 


B 


EFOP-E I  proceed  to  the  rcbtion  of  sticceedmg  events, 
it  will  be  necessary  to  give  a  dcsciiption  of  the  people  in- 
habiting this  town,  as  much  will  depend  on  knowing  their 
character,  to  rightly  understand  the  relation  of  incidents 
which  will  follow. 

The  to^n  of  Pclhnm  was  settled  with  people  chiefiy 
from  the  north  of  Ireiand.  They  were  of  course,  strict 
Presbyterians.  They  valued  themselves  much  on  beinf^ 
acquainted  with  the  nice  distinctions  between  orthodox  and 
heterodox  principles  and  practice.  They  likewise  wished 
to  be  thought  shrewd  in  their  observations  on  ministers 
and  preaching.  A  people  generally  possessing  violent 
passions,  which  once  disturbed,  raged,  imcontroled  by  the 
dictates  of  reason  ;  unpolished  in  their  manners,  posses- 
sing a  jealous  disposition  ;  and  either  very  friendly  or  veiy 
inimical,  not  knowing  a  medium  between  those  two  ex- 
tremes. The  first  settled  minister  they  had  among  them, 
was  one  Abicrombie,  from  Scotland,  a  man  of  handsom.e 
abilities,  but  violent  passions,  resolute  and  persevering. 
Not  many  years  after  he  was  settled  among  them,  a  diffi- 
culty took  place  between  him  and  the  people,  which  was 
carried  to  considerable  length,  and  ended  in  his  dismission. 
After  Mr.  Abicrombie  left  this  people,  they  made  appli- 
cation to  one  Gi-ayham,  who  at  length  settled  among  them, 
to  tUeir  universal  satisfaction  ;  being  a  very  handsome 
speaker,  and  otherwise  possest  with  popular  talciHs  as  a 
preacher.  Mr.  Gray  ham  was  a  man  of  very  delicate  feel- 
ings, of  superior  refinemciij^,  and  inheriting  a  great  desire 
for  that  peace  which  establishes  the  enjoyments  of  society. 

After  preaching  a  number  of  years  to  this  people,  he 
found  an  uneasiness  prevailing  among  them,  the  chief 
cause  of  v.hich  was,  his  practising  upon  a  system  of  man- 
ners more  refined  than  what  was  prevalent  in  the  place  ♦, 
consequently,  they  accused  him  of  pride,  of  attention  to 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  57 

the  vanities  of  the  world  ;  of  leaving  the  plain  path  of  scrip- 
ture, and  following  after  the  vices  of  Rome.  Mr.  Gray- 
ham  labored  to  convince  them  of  their  mistake ;  of  his 
wish  to  live  with  them  upon  the  most  intimate  terms  of 
equality ;  of  his  ever  having  it  in  view  to  pursue  such 
measures  as  would,  in  their  operation,  conduce  to  their 
good  and  prosperity  ;  and  in  that  pursuit,  he  had  expected 
his  examples  and  precepts  would  answer  a  valuable  pur- 
pose. His  expostulations,  remonstrances  and  entreaties 
were  all  given  to  the  wind.  The  difficulties  increased, 
and  the  clamor  grew  louder.  The  mind  of  Mr.  Grayham 
was  too  delicately  stnmg  to  bear  those  strokes  of  misfor- 
tune ;  they  insensibly  wore  upon  his  constitution,  till  at 
last  he  fell  a  sacrafice  to  the  tumult,  and  sought  his  rest 
in  the  grave. 

The  town  of  Pelham  remained  destitute  of  a  minister 
for  a  considerable  time.  They  tried  a  number  of  candi- 
dates, but  not  finding  any  with  whom  they  could  agree,  no 
one  was  yet  settled.  At  length,  a  Mr.  Merrill  came 
among  them.  He  was  a  man  possessing  the  gift  of  utter- 
ance and  flow  of  expression,  perhaps  equal  to  any.  He 
was  an  eccentric  genius,  and  imprudent  to  the  last  degree  ; 
possessing  violent  passions — head-strong  and  impetuous. 
The  plausible  part  of  his  character  was  so  captivating,  that 
the  town  agreed  to  settle  him.  He  accordingly  was  in- 
stalled. His  imprudences  soon  made  their  appearance. 
Complaint  was  made,  but  they  found  one  now  who  paid 
but  little  attention  to  their  complaining.  Both  parties  be- 
gan to  give  way  to  passion.  Their  contention  increased, 
and  a  flame  was  kindled  which  set  the  whole  town  in  an 
uproar.  Mr.  Merrill  refused  to  start  from  that  founda- 
tion to  which  his  legal  contract  Entitled  him  ;  therefore, 
the  other  party  determined  to  use  extraordinary  and  vio- 
lent measures.  Thft'attack  Mr.  Merrill  durst  not  meet ; 
therefore,  he  suddenly  left  the  town.  Matters  were  in 
this  situation  when  I  came  to  Pelham.  From  the  infor- 
mation of  Mr.  Baldwin,  and  from  the  communications  of 
my  landlord  and  family,  I  soon  gained  a  pretty  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  people  whom  I  was  amongst';  and  I  en- 
deavored to  adapt  my  conduct  to  their  genius  as  far  as  L 


58  MEMOIRS  OF 

>vas  capable.  I  found  myself  soon  able  to  dress  in 
a  habit  fitting  my  calling.  I  soon  found,  likewise,  that 
my  endeavors  to  suit  the  people  had  not  altogether  failed. 
At  the  expiration  of  the  four  Sabbaths,  they  engaged  me 
to  preach  sixteen  more.  I  began  to  form  an  acquaintance 
in  the  neighboring  towns,  and  with  the  neighboring  min- 
isters. 

This  happened  to  be  a  time  of  great  mortality  among 
women  in  child-bed  ;  consequently,  I  was  called  to  preach 
many  funeral  sermons  in  this  and  the  neighboring  towns, 
many  of  which  were  destitute  of  a  clergyman  of  their  own. 
I  always  attended  this  business  when  I  had  a  call.  This 
circun^stance  began  to  raise  a  wonder  in  the  minds  of 
some,  how  I  could  be  prepared  for  preaching  so  constant- 
ly, and  on  so  short  notice,  being  as  yet  only  nineteen  years 
of  age.  I  had,  in  reality,  ten  sermons  with  me,  written 
by  my  father. 

At  a  certain  time,  being  suddenly  called  to  preach  a 
funeral  sermon,  I  had  none  of  my  own  written,  proper  for 
the  occasion.  I  took  one  of  my  father's,  and  delivered  it 
to  a  crowded  audience.  As  this  sermon  was  delivered  in 
a  private  house,  it  was  in  tiie  power  of  any  to  look  into  my 
notes.  One,  who  hnd  wondered  at  my  always  being  pre- 
pared to  preach,  took  this  opportunity  of  looking  over  my 
notes,  and  thought  they  appeared  too  old  to  be  lately  writ- 
ten. This  circumstance  was  mentioned  to  a  number,  who 
began  to  grow  uneasy  with  the  apprehension  of  my  preach- 
ing sermons  not  my  own.  Mr.  Baldwin  coming  to  Pel- 
ham  about  this  time,  they  mentioned  the  matter  to  him, 
that  he  might  make  some  enquiry  into  the  business,  and 
inform  them.  He  accordingly  mentioned  the  matter  to 
me,  in  a  confidential  m.anner,  and  desired  to  see  the  ser- 
mon alluded  to.  I  v.'as  sensible  the  hand-v/riting  of  my 
father  was  so  different  from  my  own,  that  the  first  view 
must  clearly  convince  any  obser\"er,  that  this  sermon  was 
not  written  by  myself ;  1  therefore  thought  it  the  better 
way  to  treat  the  matter  ingenuously,  and  tell  him  the  sim- 
ple matter  of  fact. 

I  told  Mr.  Baldwin,  that  the  mermen  v.as  a  manuscript 
■\yhich  I  had  in  my  possession,  together  with  some  ethers, 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHvS.  «9 

written  by  another  person,  and  that  the  want  of  time  to  pre- 
pare a  discourse  had  induced  me  to  take  this,  rather  than 
refuse  to  preach.  Mr.  Baldwin  made  some  observations 
with  regard  to  my  situation  ;  of  the  necessity  of  a  great 
degree  of  prudence  ;  and  of  the  impropriety  of  using  oth- 
er sermons  as  a  general  thing.  He  returned  to  Palmer, 
without  giving  the  men  any  account  respecting  the  mat- 
ter of  their  suspicion.  Not  gaining  that  intelligence  by 
Mr.  Baldwin  which  was  expected,  those  who  were  un- 
easy, spread  their  suspicions  among  others,  until  there  be- 
came uneasiness  pretiy  generally  through  the  town.  They 
proposed  a  number  of  ways  to  obtain  that  satisfaction,  with 
regard  to  their  suspicion,  which  would  either  clear  me 
from  the  fact  of  which  they  were  jealous,  or  else  establish 
them  in  it.  They,  at  length,  agreed  to  this  method,  viz. 
to  send  one  of  their  number  to  me,  on  Sunday  morning, 
previous  to  my  going  into  the  meeting-house,  and  desire 
ine  to  preach  from  a  passage  of  scripture,  which  he  should 
give  me.  I  was  informed  of  all  these  circumstances  pre- 
vious to  the  time  of  trial.  Their  reasoning  upon  this  sub- 
ject was  of  this  nature,  viz.  that  if  I  was  able  on  the  short- 
est notice,  to  preach  on  any  occasion,  I  should  be  able  like- 
wise to  preach  on  Sunday,  from  such  a  passage  as  should 
be  given  me  on  the  morning  of  the  same  day  ;  and  should 
I  not  be  able  to  preach,  the  evidence  would  be  conclusive 
against  m.e,  that  I  preached  the  sermons  of  others,  and 
not  my  own. 

The  Sunday  following,  1  was  vraited  on  by  Mr.  Clark, 
who  desired  me  to  oblige  him,  by  delivering  a  discourse 
from  the  first  clause  of  the  5th  verse  of  the  9th  chapter  of 
.Toshua  ;  the  words  were,  "  old  shoes  and  clouted  on  their 
feet."  I  informed  him  I  would  deliver  a  discourse  from 
that  text,  and  accordingly  he  left  me.  I  truly  felt  some- 
what blanked,  at  the  nature  of  the  passage  I  had  to  dis- 
course upon.  However,  I  was  determined  to  do  the  best 
on  the  subject  I  was  capable.  I  endeavored  to  make  some 
arrangements  in  my  mind  on  the  subject.  I  had  not  thought 
long  on  it,  before  the  matter  opened  to  niy  mind,  in  such 
a  manner,  as  to  give  me  much  satisfaction.  As  your  pa- 
tience would  hardly  endure  the  repetition  of  a  tedious  ser- 


60  MEMOIRS  OF 

mon,  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  it ;  yet,  sir,  indulge  me 
in  giving  you  some  general  outlines  of  this  discourse,  as  it 
was  founded  on  a  very  singular  passage,  and  delivered  on 
a  very  extraordinary  occasion. 


CHAP.  IX. 

"  Thus  airy  pleasure  dances  in  our  eyes, 

"  And  spreads  false  imag-es  in  fair  disguise, 

"  To  lure  our  souls  ;  till  just  witliin  our  arms 

"  The  vision  dies,  and  all  the  painted  charms 

"  Flee  quick  away,  from  the  pursuing  sight, 

"  'Till  they  are  lost  in  shades,  and  mingle  with  the  night." 

An  handling  this  discourse,  the  exordium  consisted  of  a 
description  of  the  Gibeonites ;  the  duplicity  which  they 
practiced  upon  the  Jews ;  the  nature  and  general  tenden- 
cy of  deceit,  Sec.  After  I  had  gone  through  with  the  in- 
troduction, I  divided  my  discourse  into  three  general 
heads,  viz.  to  consider  in  the  first  place  of  shoes  ;  2dly,  of 
old  shoes  ;  and  3dly,  of  clouted  shoes.  In  treating  of  the 
first  general  head,  viz.  shoes,  I  considered  them  in  a  met- 
aphorical sense,  as  shewing  our  mode  of  conduct  in  life. 
We  are  all,  said  I.  sojourners  in  this  world  but  for  a  sea- 
son, travelling  to  another  country,  to  which  we  shall,  ere 
long,  arrive  ;  we  must  all  be  shod,  in  order  to  enable  us  to 
travel  the  road  before  us.  We  find  the  good  man  repre- 
sented as  having  his  "  feet  shod  with  the  preparation  of 
the  gospel  of  peace."  All  mankind  are  in  a  state  of  mo- 
tion ;  none  remain  inactive  on  this  stage  of  probation  ;  all 
are  moving  forward  with  rapidity,  and  hastening  to  their 
final  end.  Not  only  the  natural  world,  but  likewise'  the 
mental,  is  filled  with  briars  and  thorns,  stones  and  rubbish 
which  wound  us  at  every  step,  when  we  are  not  shod  to 
guard  us  from  those  injuries  we  should  otherwise  receive 
from  those  impediments.  Mankind,  finding  this  to  be 
the  case,  have  immediate  recourse  to  such  coverings  for 
their  feet,  as  they  imagine  will  protect  them  from  the  in- 
juries to  which  they  are  exposed,  he.  kc. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  61 

In  treating  the  second  head,  viz.  of  old  shoes,  I  endeav- 
ored to  shew, that  they  represented  those,  "  who  had  been 
hewing  to  themselves  cisterns,  broken  cisterns,  which  can 
hold  no  water."  We  find,  said  I,  from  the  earliest  ages 
of  the  world,  mankind  practicing  upon  that  system.  Tney 
have  continued  ever  since  to  tread  in  the  steps  of  their 
predecessors,  and  to  wear  the  same  old  shoes.  The 
old  shoes  represent  old  sins,  which  mankind  have  made 
use  of  from  old  times,  down  to  the  present  day.  And 
would  to  God  they  had  been  worn  until  mankind  had  been 
ashamed  of  them.  A  spirit  of  jealousy  and  discord,  per- 
haps, may  be  accounted  as  old  as  any  shoes  now  worti. 
How  soon  after  the  creation  do  we  find  this  same  destruc- 
tive principle  raging  in  the  little  family,  which  then  com- 
posed the  whole  human  race.  Murder  was  the  conse- 
quence ;  revenge  and  hatred  were  perpetuated  by  it. 
*'  Now  I  am  possessed  with  this  accursed  passion,"  said 
Cain,  "  whoever  shall  find  me,  shall  slay  me."  The  dire- 
ful influence  of  this  passion  spreads  its  dismal  effects  among 
all  mankind,  when  it  once  prevails.  Solomon,  viewing 
the  operation  of  this  principle  upon  the  human  heart,  says, 
"  Jealousy  is  more  cruel  than  the  grave."  It  deluges 
countries,  destroys  societies,  and  renders  man  hateful  to 
man.  All  civil  and  religious  bodies  are  destroyed,  when 
once  this  hateful  monster  is  allowed  an  enti'ance.  Minis- 
ters and  people,  parents  and  children,  husbands  and  v/ives, 
fall  a  sacrifice  to  the  influence  of  "  jealousy,  that  green 
eyed  monster,  which  makes  the  meat  it  feeds  on."  There- 
fore, wo  be  to  that  people  who  cherish  the  seeds  of  jealou- 
sy, or  practice  after  her  counsels,  ^c.  kc.  &c. 

In  considering  the  last  general  head,  viz.  of  clouted  shoes, 
I  observed,  that  those,  v/ho  wore  those  old  shoes,  and.  pra«:- 
ticed  upon  a  system  of  jealousy,  were  sensible  of  its  odi- 
ous and  hateful  nature,  and  of  consequence,  ashamed  to  be 
seen  by  God,  man,  or  the  devil  ;  nay,  they  were  ashamed 
to  be  seen  by  themselves,  therefsre,  they  had  recourse  to 
patching  and  clouting  themselves  over  with  false  and  feign- 
ed pretences,  to  hide  their  shame  and  disgrace.  This  vice 
has  been  considered,  by  all  wise  men,  as  the  most  destruc- 
tive to  human  felicity,  and  the  least  excusable,  and  most 

F 


62  MEMOIRS  OF 

unreasonble,  of  any  passion  incident  to  the  human  heart. 
It  is  a  passion,  which  debases  the  human  character  to  its 
lowest  ebb,  as  says  a  noted  author,  "  Where  I  see  a  jeal- 
ous people,  I  expect  likewise,  to  see  eveiy  thing  base  and 
sordid  among  them." 

Look  around,  my  hearers,  and  judge  for  yourselves  ; 
whenever  you  have  left  this  firstborn  son  of  hell  triumph- 
ing in  your  bosoms,  how  soon  has  joy  and  comfort  fled 
from  your  hearts  ?  How  soon  has  this  doleful  monster 
turned  all  the  sweets  of  life  into  wormwood  and  gall  ?  &c. 

I  concluded  this  discourse  by  an  application  of  the  sub- 
ject, after  the  following  manner.  My  hearers,  where  shall 
I  apply  this  doctrine?  Is  it  calculated  for  a  people  only  at 
some  great  distance  ?  Can  we  not  bring  it  home,  even  to 
our  own  doors  ?  Search  and  see.  Try  yourselves  by  the 
sanctuary,  and  if  there  your  garments  are  not  washed  in 
innocence,  you  will  find,  "  Mene,  mene,  tekel  upharsin," 
written  on  your  walls.  Will  you  suffer  this  hateful  mon- 
ster to  rage  among  you  ?  Will  you  wear  these  old  filthy 
clouted  shoes  any  longer  ?  W^ill  you  not  rather  put  on  that 
"  charity  which  endureth  all  things,  which  hopeth  all 
things  ?"  Will  you  not  rather  be  '<  shod  with  the  pre- 
paration of  the  gospel  of  peace  r"  kc.  &c.  ice. 

After  this  sermon  was  delivere'd,  I  found  the  people, 
though  somewhat  disturbed  at  my  esteeming  them  jeal- 
ous, satisfied  with  regard  to  my  ability  in  sermonizing,  and 
they  afterwards  remained  quiet  on  that  head.  I  found  it 
necessary  to  purchase  me  a  horse,  saddle,  and  bridle,  as 
well  as  to  clothe  myself  anew  entirely,  with  such  apparel 
as  became  a  clergyman  ;  therefore,  I  was  under  the  ne- 
cessity to  anticipate  my  wages  to  answer  these  purposes, 
after  I  had  disposed  of  my  old  horse,  saddle  and  bridle  to 
the  best  advantage. 

No  person  of  my  acquaintance  knew  where  I  was  at  this 
time,  except  Joseph  Huntington,  whom  I  had  left  at  Dart- 
mouth College  ;  with  him  I  continued  a  correspondence 
by  letter ;  he  engaged  to  make  me  a  visit  in  September, 
as  he  should  then  be  on  his  way  to  Coventry,  and  could 
take  Pelham  in  his  journey.  I  once  saw  a  person  whom 
I    had  formerly  been   acquainted  with   at  Coventry,  by 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  63 

the  name  of  Avery  ;  but  he  did  not  appear  to  recog- 
nise me,  being  under  a  different  name,  and  in  a  different 
dress.  The  f- st  of  my  seeing  him  was  in  the  meeting- 
house. I  made  it  convenient  to  fall  in  with  him  after- 
wards, to  see  if  he  had  any  recollection  of  me,  and  found 
he  had  not. 

Not  long  after  this,  I  saw  a  young  man  by  the  name  of 
Powers,  with  whom  I  was  acquainted  at  Dartmouth  Col- 
lege. I  saw  he  paid  close  attention  to  me,  whilst  I  was 
preaching,  and  concluded  from  a  number  of  circumstan- 
ces, he  knev/  me.  He  lived  in  Greenwich,  a  town  adjoin- 
ing, and  had  connexions  in  Pelham.  I  therefore  conclud- 
ed it  to  be  a  matter  of  consequence  to  throw  myself  in  his 
way,  find  come  to  an  explanation  with  him.  Accordingly, 
after  meeting,  I  made  it  convenient  for  him  to  speak  to 
me,  which  he  readily  did  ;  and  he  being  informed  into  the 
motives  of  my  conduct,  promised  not  to  say  any  thing 
which  should  create  an  uneasiness  among  the  people. 

At  another  time,  coming  from  a  town  culled  Colrain, 
having  been  on  a  visit  to  the  clergyman  living  in  that  town, 
I  met  one  Church,  with  whom  I  was  acquidnted  at  the 
College  ;  he  now  being  a  clergyman,  and  seeiiig  me  in  a 
clerical  habit,  stared  with  surprise  at  me.  I  frankly  told 
him  my  situation,  and  vrhere  I  was  preaching.  At  the  re- 
lation of  this,  his  phiz  became  lengthened,  he  assumed  all 
the  importance  attached  to  his  function,  and  addressed  me 
in  a  lengthy  harrangue,  shewing  the  sacredness  of  the 
character  which  I  had  assumed,  and  of  the  grci-t  impor- 
tance of  "  walking  worthy  of  the  vocation  wherev/ith  I  was 
called."  I  pulled  off  my  hat,  made  him  a  profoimd  rever- 
ence, and  rode  on. 

Soon  after  I  had  left  this  Knight  of  the  Cross,  I  began 
to  reflect  upon  the  nature  of  my  own  conduct,  and  upon 
mature  consideration,  blamed  myself  much  forgiving  aim 
that  information  which  I  had,  with  regard  to  my  own  mat- 
ters. This  information,  said  I,  can  do  him  no  manner  of 
good,  and  it  may  do  me  much  injuty.  The  secret  is  u^w 
gone  from  me,  and  I  cannot  recal  it.  I  cannot  recei-. -3 
any  possible  good  from  commuiucating  this  matter,  and 
many  possible  evils  may  befal  me  in  consequence  of  it. 


64  MEMOIRS  OF 

I  will  leave  matters  in  this  situation,  and  go  back*  some 
"vvay  in  my  narrative,  in  order  to  fetch  forward  a  number 
of  matters,  necessary  to  understand  many  events,  which 
will  hereafter  be  related. 

When  I  first  came  to  Pelham,  I  formed  an  acquaint- 
ance with  a  family,  vv'hich  must  remain  nameless,  for  rea- 
sons vrhich  you  Vvili  understand  by  the  after  relation.  The 
3nan  was  possessed  of  information  far  above  the  rest  of  the 
inhabitants.  His  manners  and  sentiments  were  equally 
refined ;  his  wife  possessed  those  amiable  accomplish- 
m.ents  which  made  her  a  paragon  of  excellence  among  the 
rude  inhabitants  of  this  town.  This  couple  lived  together 
on  such  terms,  as  to  do  honor  to  their  refinement.  The 
most  tender  affections  marked  all  their  actions,  whilj  their 
parental  care  had  formed  a  family  of  the  most  lovely  chil- 
dren. With  this  family  I  formed  an  acqualf^tance,  which 
was  not  only  intimate,  but  ardently  affectionate.  I  lived 
with  them  on  such  terms  of  nearness  and  confidence,  as  I 
never  expect  to  do  with  any  other.  All  their  propensities, 
feelings,  and  sentiments  were  in  union  with  my  own  ;  so 
that  not  a  discordant  sound  was-  heard  among  us.  In  fine, 
I  do  not  knov.-  the  act  of  friendship  too  romantic  or  desper- 
ate for  me  to  have  performed,  for  this  amiable  family,  had 
occasion  called  ;  my  feelings  of  friendship  were  so  strong 
towards  them,  I  communicated  all  the  secrets  respecting 
myself  to  them,  without  disguising  any  circumstance. 
The  man  told  me  that  measures  were  in  such  a  train,  ihat 
lie  should  soon  be  in  possession  of  an  independent  fortune. 
Prompted  by  the  feelings  of  friendship,  he  wished  me  to 
enjoy  a  part  of  the  blessing  in  store  for  him  ;  he  therefore 
let  me  into  the  knowledge  of  his  wealth  and  greatness. 
He  informed  me  thatone  Philips,  who  was  then  at  work  in 
New-Salem,  with  the  noted  Glazier  Wheeler,  a  money- 
maker, known  throughout  all  New-England,  had  the  art 
of  transmuting  metals,  so  as  to  make  copper  into  good  sil- 
ver, M'hich  would  stand  the  test  of  every  essay  made  upon 
it.  This  knowledge  Philips  had  agreed  to  communicate 
to  my  friend,  who,  for  distinction  sake,  I  will  call  Lysan- 
der.  Said  I,  it  this  can  be  done,  at  no  considerable  ex- 
pense, it  is  a  matter  of  the  utmost  consequence  ;  but  his 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  65 

working  v»'ith  Glazier  Wheeler  is  an  exceptionable  cir- 
cumstance a,^ainst  him,  in  my  opinion  ;  however,  he  may 
liave  his  own  reasons  for  it,  and  those  reasons,  were  they 
known  to  me,  might  be  satisfactory.  Lysander  appeared 
to  entertain  the  highest  confidence  in  the  business.  His 
wife  was  more  doubtful  ;  who,  by  the  by,  was  the  most 
penetrating  of  the  two.  In  order  to  put  tlie  matter  out  of 
all  doubt,  1  agreed  to  attend  Lysander  on  a  visit  to  this 
wonderful  transmuter  of  metals,  and  there  examine  his 
experiments,  until  v/e  had  reduced  the  matter  to  a  certain- 
ty. The  visit  was  to  be  made  in  the  night,  to  prevent  any 
suspicion  arising  from  the  circumstance  of  being  at  the 
money-maker  Wheeler's.  We  accordingly,  one  night, 
set  out  on  our  destination,  it  being  a  rout  of  about  tv»elve 
miles,  and  arrived  there  about  10  o'clock.  We  made  our 
business  known  to  Philips,  who  was  willing  to.  give  us 
proofs  of  his  skill. 

He  in  the  first  place,  weighed  one  half  ounce  of  copper, 
and  put  it  into  a  crucible,  and  then  put  the  crucible  into 
the  fire  ;  after  it  remained  there  a  short  space  of  time,  he 
put  in  a  paper,  containing  something  wrapped  in  it,  and 
immediately  the  matter  in  the  crucible  became  turbid,  and 
began  to  foam  and  boil  with  great  violence,  for  about  ten 
minutes,  and  then  settled  down  into  a  clear  beautiful  metai, 
which,  when  poured  off  and  cooled,  was  good  silver,  v/eigh- 
ing  one  half  an  ounce.  It  stood  the  trial  by  aqua-fortis, 
and  several  ways,  so  that  I  had  no  doubt  of  its  being  good 
silver.  My  only  doubt  remained  as  to  the  contents  of  the 
paper,  which  was  put  into  the  crucible.  This  contained  a 
certain  powder,  as  Philips  said,  which  served  to  destroy 
the  verdigrease,  which  the  copper  absorbed,  aiid  the  re- 
mainder was  pure  silver.  I  wished  to  see  the  powder — 
with  some  seeming  reluctance,  he  shewed  it  me.  I  sav/ 
it  was  in  reality  a  powder.  I  wished  him  to  try  the  ex- 
periment again,  and  to  put  the  powder  in  open,  so  as  to 
have  it  seen  after  it  was  in  the  crucible.  He  pre- 
tended it  would  not  do  quite  so  vvell  this  way,  but,  to 
gratify  our  curiosity,  consented.  The  experiment,  in  all 
its  circumstances,  was  repeated,  excepting  his  laying  a 
large  flat  coal  over  the  mouth  of  the  crucible,  immediate- 


66  MEMOIRS  OF 

ly  after  the  copper  was  put  in.  The  effect  was  the  same 
—one  half  an  ounce  of  good  silver  was  poured  out  of  the 
crucible. 

I  again  desired  him  to  furnish  me  with  the  materials, 
and  let  me  go   through  the  operation  myself,  without  his 
coming  near  the  fire.      H&  consented.     I  weighed  the 
copper,  put  it  in,  and  proceeded  according  to  his  method, 
wdiich  I   had  seen  him  perform,  till  the  powder  produced 
the  boiling  foam  in  the  crucible,  when  he  cried  out  to  me 
to  stir  it.     I  did  not  recollect  seeing  him  stir  it ;  however, 
I  put  an  iron  rod,  about  the  bigness  of  a  large  nail-rod,  and 
i.bout  eighteen  inches  long,  into  the  crucible,  and  stirred 
the  contents.     There  was  nothing  but  this  iron  rod  which 
would  answer  to  stir  the  metal  with.     When  we  emptied 
the  crucible,  we  found  half  an  ounce  of  good  silvei-.    Once 
more  I  begged  his  indulgence  for  another  experiment ; 
?,nd  that  he  should  not  be  in  the  room  when  it  was  per- 
formed.    He   readily  consented.     Lysander   and  myself 
proceeded  together  in  the  experiment,   secundum  artem. 
When  we  came  to  stir  the  metal,  we  could  find  nothing 
calculnted  for  that  purpose,  except  a  short  piece  of  a  walk- 
ing-staff; we   therefore  made  use  of  that;  but  saw  after- 
v/ards,  we  had  burnt  off  about  four  inches  of  that  end  we 
had  put  into  the  crucible.  We  poured  out  the  usual  quan- 
tity of  good  silver.     I  was  now  satisfied  beyond  all  doubt. 
We  returned  to  Pelham  with  no  small  satisfaction.     I  felt 
all  the  confidence  in  the  business  which   was  possible  to 
feel  on  any  subject.     I  saw,  in  my  own  imagination,   my 
fortune  certainly  made.  Not  a  doubt  remained  in  my  mind 
of  becoming  the  richest  man  on  the  continent  of  America. 
But  how  "fleeting  our  joys  1    how  vain  our   expectations  I 
Can  you  suppose  the  whole  of  this  an  illusion  ?  It  was  truly 
so.     All  the  the  plausible   experiments  which  were  per- 
formed by  Philips  and  ourselves,  were  a  series  of  the  most 
consummate  duplicity,  which  was  ever  performed.     We 
did iiot  make  this  discovery   till  som«  time  afterwards; 
but  I  will  go  forward  with  the  account  now,  for  the  reason 
of  its  being  so  closely  connected  with  th.e  incidents  aires.- 
dy  related. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  67 

When  the  first  copper  was  put  into  the  crucible,  he  put 
half  an  ounce  of  silver  in  likewise,  which  was  wrapped  in 
the  paper,  with  some  powder,  which  consumed  the  copper 
and  left  the  silver.  The  next  operation  was  after  this 
manner.  Being  prevented  from  conveying  the  silver  into 
the  cructble,  by  my  request  of  seeing  the  powder  put  in, 
he  therefore  secretly  put  his  silver  on  the  forge,  and  laid 
a  large  flat  coal  over  it.  At  the  proper  time,  he  took  up 
the  silver  and  coal  together  with  his  tongs,  and  laying  them 
over  the  top  of  the  crucible,  the  silver  unperceived  fell  in. 
The  next  deception  was  performed  thus  :  at  the  time  in 
which  I  was  ordered  to  stir  the  metal  in  the  crucible,  an 
iron  rod  was  the  only  thing  to  be  found  for  such  a  purpose  : 
on  the  lower  end  of  this  rod  was  fixed  the  silver,  blacken- 
ed like  iron,  which  being  put  into  the  crucible,  melted  off. 
The  last  experiment  for  supplying  us  with  silver,  was  per- 
formed by  making  the  end  of  the  piece  of  walking-staff 
hollow,  and  placing  the  silver  in  the  end  of  it,  which  being 
burnt  off,  left  the  silver  in  the  criicifele.  Thus  this  migh- 
ty fabric  of  wealth  was  blown  away  in  an  instant,  like  the 
baseless  fabric  of  a  vision.  This  adroit  deceiver  obtained 
property  of  a  number,  to  the  amount  of  two  thousand  dol- 
lars, and  suddenly  was  missed. 

As  he  will  be  found  on  the  stage  a  number  of  times,  in 
the  course  of  this  narrative,  it  will  be  necessary  to  give 
some  more  particular  description  of  this  singular  man. 
He  was  about  five  feet  eight  inches  high,  dark  complex- 
ion, thick  set,  do-vn  look,  plausible  in  conversation,  very 
ingenious  in  executing  mechanical  undertakings,  and 
what  is  more  surprising,  he  has  but  one  arm.  He  had  the 
entire  command  of  his  feelings,  so  that  his  countenance 
or  actions  never  betrayed  his  inward  sensations,  persever- 
ing in  any  undertaking,  perfidious,  subtle,  and  designing.; 
lost  to  all  feelings  of  fidelity,  either  towards  the  public,  as 
a  member  of  the  community,  or  towards  individuals,  to 
whom  he  had  m.ore  immediately  pledged  his  faith  ;  a  rank 
coward,  yet  possessing  the  happiest  abilities  of  imitating 
courage  of  any  man  I  ever  saw.  There  was  no  part  of 
the  coining  art  but  what  he  was  master  of,  and  could,  with 
one  arm  only,  execute  it  to  perfection. 


68  MEMOIRS  OF 

Being  fully  possessed  -with  the  idea  that  our  prosperity 
was  certain,  we  concerted  a  plan  to  carry  on  the  business 
to  that  amount,  as  to  answer  a  purpose  of  magnitude.  We 
therefore  concluded  to  charter  a  vessel,  load  her  with  cop- 
per, coal,  provision.  Sec.  necessary  for  the  business,  and  re- 
tire to  the  isle  of  Sable,  where  we  could  pursue  our  plan 
uninterrupted.  A  writing  was  made  and  signed  by  all 
parties,  for  our  regulation  in  prosecuting  said  purpose. 


CHAP.  X. 

*'  It  was  a  season,  when  the  ling^ering  night, 

*'  Disputes  her  empire  with  the  rising  lig'lit ; 

"  A  rosy  blush  here  paints  the  doubtful  mom, 

**  There  glimmering  stars,  the  uncertain  shades  adorn.'* 

A-T  the  time  fixed  on,  Joseph  Huntington  came  to  see 
me  at  Pelham  ;  I  introduced  him  to  my  acquaintance,  and 
particularly  to  Lysander.  We  opened  our  schemes  of 
aggrandizement"  to  him,  without  reserve.  He  was  pleas- 
ed with  our  prospects,  and  in  the  overflowings  of  our 
friendship,  we  agreed  to  allow  him,  as  the  highest  favor 
possible  for  us  to  communicate,  to  set  his  hand  to  our 
agreement,  and  so  become  a  partner  in  our  business.  In 
the  course  of  Huntington's  remaining  with  me  at  Pelham, 
he  made  several  unguarded  mistakes,  which  reduced  me 
to  a  very  disagreeable  situation.  He  called  me  by  my 
proper  name,  a  number  of  times,  before  the  family  where 
Hived.  He  excused  himself  by  saying,  that  Burroughs 
was  my  nick  name  at  Cc2Iege,  and  was  given  in  conse- 
quence of  my  looking  so  much  like  one  of  that  name. 
One  Sunday  morning,  as  people  were  going  to  meeting, 
1  was  leaning  back  in  ray  chair,  the  pommel  resting  against 
the  door  case.  Huntington,  seeing  the  situation  in  which 
I  was  resting,  put  his  staff  against  the  chair  and  pushed  it 
off  the  case,  and  down  I  fell  on  the  floor.  This  impudent 
action,  done  on  Sunday,  by  my  known  and  ultimate  friend, 
had  a  very  disagreeable  appearance,  and  made  people  look 
with  astonishment  at  the  circumstsmce  j  however,  I  re- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  69 

proved  Huntinsjton  with  some  warmth,  and  he,  seeing  the 
nature  of  his  folly,  bore  it  with  patience.  The  Monday- 
following,  Huntington  was  to  proceed  on  to  Coventry.  I 
rode  with  him  about  twelve  miles  on  his  way,  and  then  re- 
turned; but  previous  to  my  return,  an  affair  took  place 
which  gave  a  new  face  to  the  scene  of  things. 

As  we  were  riding  by  the  house  of  Mr.  Forward,  min- 
ister of  Belchertown,  he  came  out  of  his  house,  and  desir- 
ed us  to  call,  alledging  that  Mr.  Chapin,  a  minister  from 
Windsor,  was  in  the  house,  to  whom  he  offered  to  intro- 
duce us.  Mr.  Chapin  was  a  man  well  known  to  me,  and 
I  presumed  I  should  be  equally  well  known  to  him.  I 
excused  the  matter,  alledging  that  I  was  in  haste,  and 
therefore,  could  not  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  accepting 
his  invitation.  Mr.  Forvrard  was  pressing  for  us  to  alight, 
and  go  in  ;  and  while  this  dialogue  continued,  Mr.  Chapin 
came  out  of  the  house,  and  addressed  me  by  the  name  of 
Burroughs.  I  endeavored  to  convince  him  of  his  mistake, 
but  to  no  purpose  ;  he  insisted  in  a  very  peremptory  man- 
ner, that  my  name  was  not  Davis,  but  was  bona  fide  Bur- 
roughs. I  replied  that  those  insults  were  not  grateful  to 
my  feelings,  and  what  I  should  not  bear.  "  Your  humble 
servant  gentlemen."  We  then  rode  on,  though  repeat- 
edly desired  to  stop.  When  Huntington  and  I  were  by 
ourselves,  we  were  merry  upon  the  circumstance  of  being 
driven  into  so  short  a  corner. 

After  I  had  parted  from  Huntington,  I  was  under  the 
necessity  of  returning  back  the  same  road  I  came,  and  con- 
sequently, must  pass  again  the  house  of  Mr.  Forward. 
Soon  after  I  had  gone  by  the  house,  I  heard  somebody 
calling  after  me,  "  Mr.  Davis,  Mr.  Burroughs,"  but  for 
reasons  which  you  will  easily  conceive,  I  did  not  answer. 
As  I  rode  on  towards  Pelham,  I  endeavored  to  concert 
measures  of  retreat  against  the  storm,  which  w.is  fa-st  ga- 
thering, and  would  soon  burst  upon  me,  if  it  were  not 
averted.  The  news  would  soon  come  to  Pelham,  of  my 
real  name,  character.  Sec.  This  would  serve  to  arouse 
the  indignation  of  that  people  to  its  full  height.  To  con- 
tinue among  them  any  longer,  would  be  out  of  the  ques- 
tion ;  and  to  meet  the  rage  of  their  resentment,   after  the 


70  MEMOIRS  OF 

whole  matter  of  fact  should  be  promulgated,  I  dared  not; 
neither  did  I  v/ish  it.  One  Sunday  more  I  was  to  preach 
among;  them,  before  my  time  of  engagement  expired,  and 
for  this  Sunday,  I  had  already  received  my  pay  ;  but  under 
existing  circumstances,  it  was  doubtful  in  my  mind,  whe- 
ther they  would  insist  on  my  fulfilling  my  engagement. 
At  all  events,  I  was  determined  to  leave  them  veiy  sud- 
denly, I  accordingly  came  to  my  landlord's  that  evening, 
put  my  horse  in  the  barn,  and  after  the  family  were  all  re- 
tired to  rest,  I  put  my  things  in  order,  took  my  horse,  and 
silently  left  the  house.  In  this  situation,  I  sought  Lysan- 
der,  related  the  circumstances  which  I  was  under,  and 
concluded  to  lie  by  with  him,  till  I  should  see  what  the 
event  of  those  things  would  be. 

The  next  morning,  Mr.  Davis  was  not  to  be  found.  My 
landlord  was  almost  frantic  with  surprise  and  grief.  The 
town  was  alarmed,  and  suddenly  was  all  in  a  flame.  About 
1 1  6'clock,  P.  M.  a  man  came  from  Belchertown,  with  in- 
formation respecting  the  character  who  had  been  exhibit- 
ed among  them  as  a  preacher.  This  blew  the  flame  into 
a  tenfold  rage.  No  pen  can  describe  the  uproar  there  was 
in  the  town  of  Pelham.  They  mounted  hue  and  cries 
after  me  in  every  direction,  with  orders  to  spure  not  horse 
§esh.  They  perambulated  the  town,  and  anxiously  asked 
every  one  for  some  circumstance,  which  would  lead  to  a 
discovery  where  I  was.  All  this  took  place  whilst  I  lay 
snug  in  the  corner,  observing  their  operations.  In  hold- 
ing a  corisultaiion  upon  these  disagreeable  matters,  every 
one  was  anxious  to  clear  himself  of  being  the  dupe  to  my 
artifice,  as  much  as  possible.  "  I  never  liked  him,"  says 
one.  "  I  always  thought  there  was  something  suspicious 
about  him,"  says  another.  "  He  ever  had  a  very  deceit- 
ful look,"  says  a  third.  In  fine,  it  had  come  to  this,  that 
not  one  now  could  discern  any  thing  which  ever  appeared 
good  or  commendable  about  me,  except  one  good  old  la- 
dy, who  said,  "  Well,  I  hope  they  will  catch  him,  and 
bring  him  back  among  us,  and  we  will  make  him  a  good 
man,  and  keep  him  for  our  preacher." 

You  may  with  propriety  ask  me,  what  the  people  of  Pel- 
ham  expected  they  could  do,  should  they  overtake  me  in 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  n 

their  pursuit  ?  I  know  the  question  will  naturally  arise  ; 
but  I  cannot  give  you  ^n  answer,  for  I  do  not  know  their 
intentions  or  expectations.  Perhaps  they  thought,  for 
they  were  a  people  very  ignorant,  that  I  had  broken  the 
laws  of  the  land,  to  the  same  amount  as  I  had  offended 
them. 

About  1 2  o'clock,  the  night  following,  I  took  my  leave 
of  Lysander,  promising  to  return  and  see  him  again,  as 
soon  as  the  tumult  was  hushed,  and  concert  further  mea- 
sures for  our  prosecuting  our  schemes  for  gaining  wealth 
by  transmutation  ;  being  obliged  so  suddenly  to  leave  the 
country,  that  we  could  not  ripen  our  plans  for  the  present. 
It  was  not  without  the  most  sensible  pain  I  left  this  amia- 
ble family.  Journeying  on,  I  had  time  for  reflection.  At 
dead  of  night — all  alone — reflection  would  have  its  opera- 
tion. 

A  very  singular  scene  have  I  now  passed  through,  said 
I,  and  to  what  does  it  amount  ?  Have  I  acted  with  propri- 
ety as  a  man,  or  have  I  deviated  from  the  path  of  recti- 
tude ?  I  have  had  an  unheard  of,  difficult,  disagreeable 
part  to  act :  I  do  not  feel  entirely  satisfied  with  myself  in 
this  business,  and  yet  I  do  not  know  how  I  should  have 
done  otherwise,  and  have  made  the  matter  better.  The 
laws  of  the  land  I  have  not  broken,  in  any  instance  ;  but 
my  situation  has  been  such,  that  I  have  violated  that  prin- 
ciple of  veracity  which  \^e  implicitly  pledge  ourselves  to 
maintainHowards  each  other,  as  a  general  thing  in  society; 
and  whether  my  peculiar  circumstances  would  warrant 
such  a  line  of  procedure,  is  the  question  ?  I  know  many 
things  may  be  said  in  favor  of  it,  as  well  as  against  it.  How 
I  came  into  this  disagreeable  situation,  is  another  matter. 
I  know  that  the  leading  cause  which  produced  it,  was 
founded  in  wrong.  My  giving  countenance  to  an  open 
breach  of  the  laws  of  the  land,  in  the  case  of  the  bees,  was 
a  matter  in  which  I  was  justly  reprehensible  ;  but  that 
matter  is  now  past ;  the  owner  of  the  bees  is  remunerated 
to  the  utmost  extent  which  is  provided  for  by  law,  and 
therefore,  I  must  take  things  as  they  now  are,  and  under 
these  circumstances,  do  the  best  I  can.  I  know  the  world 
will  blame  me,  but  I  wish  to  justify  my  conduct  to  myself 


72  MEMOIRS  OF 

let  the  world  think  what  it  may.  Indeed,  I  know  they  are 
not. capable  of  judging  upon  the  matter,  with  any  proprie- 
ty, because  they  ever  will  and  ever  must  remain  ignorant 
of  the  particular  causes  which  brought  these  events  into 
existence.  They  understand  the  matter  in  the  gross,  that 
I  have  preached  under  a  fictitious  name  and  character,  and 
consequently,  have  roused  many  ideas  in  the  minds  of  the 
people  not  founded  in  fact.  Therefore,  they  concluded 
from  this  general  view,  the  whole  to  be  grounded  in  wrong. 
The  name  impostor,  is  therefore  easily  fixtto  my  charac- 
ter. An  impostor,  we  generally  conceive,  puts  on  feign- 
ed appearances,  in  order  to  enrich  or  aggrandize  himself, 
to  the  damage  of  others.  That  this  is  not  the  case  with 
me,  in  this  transaction,  I  think  is  clear.  That  I  have  aim- 
ed at  nothing  but  a  bare  supply  of  the  necessaries  of  life, 
is  a  fact.  That  I  have  never,  in  one  instance,  taken  advan- 
tage of  that  confidence  which  the  people  of  Pelham  en- 
tertained towards  me,  to  injure  them  ami  benefit  myself, 
is  ^  truth  acknowledged  by  all.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, whether  I  ought  to  bear  the  name  of  imposture, 
according  to  the  common  acceptation,  is  the  question  ? 

That  I  have  a  good  and  equitable  light  to  preach,  if  I 
choose,  and  others  choose  to  hear  me,  is  a  truth  of  which 
I  entertain  no  doubt :  but  whether  any  circumstance  will 
justify  my  putting  on  a  false  appearance,  in  order  to  intro- 
duce myself  into  that  business,  is  the  only  doubt  remaining 
on  my  mind.  I  think  it  my  duty,  at  least,  to  steer  as  clear 
of  this  base  guise  for  the  future,  as  my  safety  will  admit. 

About  1  o'clock  at  night,  leaving  the  confines  of  Pel- 
ham,  I  overtook  Powers,  the  person  whom  I  have  before 
mentioned,  likewise  coming  out  of  Pelham.  He  knew 
me — I  asked  him  where  he  had  been.  He  was  embar- 
rassed about  giving  me  an  answer.  I  mistrusted  he  had 
been  employed  in  searching  after  me  ;  I  laid  it  to  his, 
charge.  After  some  hesitation,  he  o^vned  the  fact.  I  put 
on  a  fierce  look,  and  commanded  him  to  stop,  in  a  very 
peremptory  manner  ;  he  obeyed.  Now,  said  I,  Powers, 
you  see  my  situation  ;  you  are  the  only  person  who  knows 
where  I  am  ;  therefore,  I  am  determined  tiJT^take  mea- 
sures for  my  own  safety  j  and  for  that  reason,  promise  me, 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  73 

Vvith  the  solemnity  of  an  oath,  that  you  will  give  no  Infor- 
mation respecting  me.  Powers  began  to  expostulate.  I 
added  still  more  terror  to  my  looks,  and  commanded  him 
to  swear  to  secrecy  immediately,  if  he  ever  wished  for  the 
opportunity.  He  was  terrified.  He  began  to  imprecate 
curses  on  his  head,  of  the  most  horiid  nature,  if  he  should 
divulge  his  having  seen  me,  or  knowir»g  v.hich  way  I  had 
gone.  We  then  fell  into  familiar  chat  on  various  topics  ; 
rode  on  together  till  we  arrived  at  the  place  where  he  left 
me  to  go  to  his  father's.  I  went  on  without  suspicion  of 
danger  ;  but  no  sooner  liad  I  left  Powers  than  he  took  his 
way  back  again  with  all  speed,  and  informed  the  people  of 
Pclham  of  his  discovery.  It  was  about  the  dawn  of  day 
when  he  had  returned  to  Pelham,  and  gave  this  important 
information.  The  nev/s  was  like  an  electric  shock.  It 
was  communicated  through  the  town  with  that  rapidity 
which  vvould  have  done  honor  to  a  cause  of  importance. 
The  people  were  assembled,  and  a  select,  niiiaber  ap- 
pointed to  pursue  me. 

All  these  things  were  unknown  to  me,  whilst  I  rode  on 
leisurely  and  securely,  thinking  of  no  danger.  I  had  de- 
termined to  bend  my  course  for  Rutland,  (IVIass)  where  I 
expected  to  find  an  acqudntfence  of  mine,  by  the  name  of 
Frink,  who  was  doing  business  in  the  mercamile  line  in 
that  town  ;  and  if,  fortunately,  I  could  obtain  business  of 
some  other  kind,  through  liis  meuns,  I  determined  to  drop 
preaching,  which  subjected  me  to  so  many  false  appear- 
ances, contrary  to  my  inclination.  I  arrived  about  8  o'clock 
A.  M.  at  Rutland,  and  found  Mr.  Frink,  according  to  my 
expectation,  at  his  shop. 

CHAP.  XI. 

"No  joy,  no  glory,  glitters  in  thy  sight, 

"  But  thro'  the  thin  partition  of  an  horn- ; 

**  I  see  its  sables  wove  by  Destiny, 

"  And  that  m  sorrow  buried ;  this  in  shame  ; 

"  While  howling  Furies  ring  the  doleful  knell." 

XRELAfcD  to  him  the  scenes  through  which  I  had 
passed  j  my  motives  in  performing  such  parts  iu  tho  :c 


74  MEMOIRS  OF 

scenes,  and  my  present  determination.  Mr.  Frink  had  no 
business  of  his  own  in  which  he  wished  to  engage  me,  but 
said  he  would  make  enquiry  among  his  acquaintance,  and 
see  what  could  be  done.  In  the  mean  time,  he  wished 
me  to  tarry  with  him.,  and  make  myself  easy,  until  he  could 
have  opportunity  of  making  the  necessary  inquiry.  After 
I  had  taken  some  refreshment,  and  put  out  my  horse,  I 
went  into  his  counting-room,  to  have  some  further  con- 
versation on  the  subject  of  my  business.  Whilst  I  was 
leaning  my  elbow  out  at  the  window,  I  turned  my  eyes  at 
the  sudden  and  violent  tranipling  of  horses,  and  sa^y  a  large 
number  of  people  from  Pelham  after  me.  Seeing  so  ma- 
ny, and  they  riding  with  such  fury,  gave  me  a  sudden  im- 
pulse of  fear,  and  I  thought  to  elude  them  by  flight ; 
therefore,  sprang  out  of  my  chair,  and  ran  across  the  shop, 
in  oixler  to  go  out  at  the  back  door  ;  but  no  sooner  had  I 
arrived  there,  than  I  was  met  by  one  Konkey,  who  at- 
tempted to  seize  me.  This  roused  my  indignation,  and 
"vvith  my  walking-staff,  I  gave  him  a  blow  across  the  riglit 
arm,  which  broke  it.  Having  by  this  mean,  made  myself 
a  passage,  I  ran  round  the  end  of  the  shop,  which  I  sup- 
posed would  be  most  out  of  sight  ;  but  when  I  turned  the 
corner,  I  met,  full  in  the  face,  two  of  my  deacons.  I  then 
turned  and  ran  abouttwentyrods,  down  a  small  hill,  and  the 
Pelhamites  all  after  me,  hallooing  with  all  their  might, 
**  Stop  him  !  stop  him  !"  To  be  pursued  thus,  like  a  thief, 
an  object  of  universal  speculation  to  the  inhabitants  of  Rut- 
land, gave  me  very  disagreeable  sensations,  which  I  was 
determined  not  to  bear.  I  therefore  stopped,  took  up  a 
stone,  and  declared  that  the  first  who  should  approach  me, 
I  would  kill  on  the  spot. 

To  hear  such  language,  and  see  such  a  state  of  deter- 
mined defiance,  in  one  whom  they  had  lately  reverenced 
as  a  clergyman,  struck  even  the  people  of  Pelham  with 
astonish. ment  and  fear.  They  were  very  credulous  in  sto- 
ries^ofthc  devil,  witches,  8cc.  and  now  thought  the  devil 
had  appeared  in  human  shape,  ready  to  destroy  thern. 
They  all  stopped  ;  amazement  being  pictuped  on  their 
countenances,  except  one  Hind.  This  mian™ued  him- 
self much  on  his  courage  and  dexterity,  and  in  order  to 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  75 

shew  his  superior  ability,  advanced  alone,  till  he  came 
within  my  reach  ;  when,  with  a  stroke  of  my  stone,  I  tum- 
bled him  to  the  ground,  apparently  a  lifeless  corpse.  This 
was  a  sufficient  corroboration  of  their  first  suspicion,  and 
they  were  now  very  certain,  that  the  devil  had  actually  tak- 
en the  liberty  to  hold  a  tight  dispute  with  them.  A  sharp 
dialogue  took  place  between  those  men  and  myself.  See- 
ing a  large  number  of  people  beginning  to  collect  and 
come  toward  me,  I  moved  on  about  two  rods  in  front  of 
the  Pelhamites,  and  they  after  me.  I  told  them  in  the 
most  decided  manner,  that  instant  destruction  should  be 
their  portion,  if  they  attempted  to  approach  any  nearer. 
They  believed,  and  kept  their  distance,  till  coming  to  a 
barn,  which  had  only  one  small  door,  I  went  in,  determin- 
ed to  defend  the  door,  which  I  expected  to  be  able  to  do, 
on  account  of  its  advantageous  situation.  After  I  had  en- 
tered the  barn,  I  found  there  a  situation,  which  pleased 
me  much  better,  viz.  the  hay-mow,  there  being  only  one 
place,  by  which  it  was  possible  to  ascend  it,  therefore, 
when  I  was  on  the  top  of  this  hay-mow,  I  could  keep  oft' 
any  number  of  men  that  should  attack  me.  I  accordingly 
seized  this  strong  hold  with  dispatch,  mounted  my  for- 
tress and  carried  vrith  me  a  scythe-snath,  as  a  weapon  of 
defence,  to  keep  off  the  assailants.  When  the  Pelhamites 
saw,  through  the  crannies  of  the  barn,  where  I  had  taken 
my  station,  they  ventured  to  come  in,  together  with  a  num- 
ber of  the  inh:J;itants. 

I  found  the  people,  who  came  into  the  barn  with  the 
Pelhamites,  were  anxious  to  learn  the  reason  of  this  up- 
roar. Deacon  M'Mullen,  of  Pelham,  informed  them  that 
I  was  an  impostor  ;  I  had  called  my  name  Davis,  when  in 
reality  it  was  Burroughs  ;  had  come  among  them  under 
that  character,  and  grossly  deceived  them  ;  preaching  v.-ith 
them  through  the  summer.  It  was  demanded  of  him 
whether  this  Burroughs  had,  during  the  ti.ne  of  his  preach- 
ing among  them,  preached  well,  and  conducted  according- 
ly I  The  answer  was  in  the  affirmative.  "  Well,"'  says  a 
by-^tander,,  "  why  need  you  make  any  difficulty  ?  he  preach- 
ed v»-ell— -^ou  paid  him  v/eil — iW  parties  v.'ere  saiisncd, 
and  why  need  you  now  be  uneasy  ?  What  sienines  wh  .t 


76  MEMOIRS  OF 

he  called  his  name  ?  A  name  does  no  good  nor  hurt,  as  tG 
the  matter  of  his  doctrine  ;  therefore,  it  will  be  well  for 
you  to  make  the  best  use  of  his  preaching  ;  and  of  course, 
you  will  find  yourselves  rew^arded  that  way,  for  the  money 
which  you  have  paid  him."  "  But,"  said  the  deacon, 
'*  we  hnve  paid  Iiim  fpr  one  Sunday  which  he  has  not 
preached."  "  As  to  that  matter,"  said  the  by-stander, 
"  I  think  he  is  wrong,  if  that  be  the  case.  If  he  has  en- 
gaged to  preach,  he  ought  to  fulfil  his  engagements  ;  but 
as  the  Sunday  is  not  yet  come,  on  which  he  is  to  preach, 
I  think  it.  a  hard  interpretation  of  his  conduct,  to  say  he 
has  cheated  you  out  of  that  sermon,  until  that  time  comes, 
so  that  you  may  see  whether  he  w-ill  perform  his  engage- 
ments or  not."  "  He  certainly  has  attempted  to  murder 
doctor  Hind  and  ISIr.  Konkey,"  said  deacon  M*Mullen. 
lie  therefore  ought  to  be  apprehended,  anc}  prosecuted 
recording  to  the  severity  of  the  law."  "  As  to  rightly  un- 
derstaniing  that,"  replied  the  other,  "  I  believe  a  number 
cf  circumstances  will  come  into  view.  At  first,  you  came 
Tipon  him  in  a  riotous,  tumultuous  manner,  indicating  by 
your  conduct,  that  your  intentions  towards  him  were  evil, 
and  under  this  situation,  he  might  well  suppose,  that  to 
submit  tamely  to  what  you  were  about  to  do,  might  be  ex- 
posing him.seli  to  immediate  death.  And  secondly,  he 
took  those  measures  to  discover  the  violence  ct  your  in- 
tentions, which  prudence  dictated,  under  such  circumstan- 
ces, by  telling  you  to  keep  your  distance  ;  and  at  the  same 
time,  declaring  his  determination,  in  case  you  did  not  do 
it.  Therefore,  as  self-defence  is  justifiable,  and  as  it  will 
<  ppear  that  his  conduct  was  dictated  by  self-defence;  I 
believe  it  will  be  somewhat  dithcult  to  make  it  evident  to 
iny  impartial  jury,  that  he  has  transgressed  the  law,  in  the 
i  ;Stance  you  mention."  "  If  he  has  broken  the  law  no 
other  way,"  said  the  deacon,  *'  he  has  done  it  in  thrcat- 
tning  to  kill  a  ycung  m.?.n  last  night,  by  the  name  of  Pow- 
ers, because  he*d  not  promise  to  keep  it  a  secret  that  he 
had  seen  him."  "  If  that  be  the  case,"  said  the  other, 
"  he  cen:jn)y  is  cogniz'^ble  by  tiie  law,  when  tl^  is  prov- 
ed. Eut  where  is  this  Powers  r"  "  At  Pclhan^  said  tlie 
(Icucon.     "  Th^n,"  said  the   otlicr,  «iti<i  out  of  your,  or 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  ^1 

rci\'  power,  to  do  any  thing  in  this  business.  It  would  be 
subjecting-  us  all  to  very  hard  terms,  to  be  liable  to  be  ap- 
prehended, on  every  report  of  ooi-  breaking  the  peace.  If 
the  s:vid  Powers,  Avhom  you  mention,  has  been  threatened 
with  death,  and  under  that  threatening,  he  absolutely  fears 
that  his  life  is  in  danger  from  Burroughs,  and  to  all  this, 
will  give  testimony  under  oath,  before  any  justice  of  the 
peace,  it  will  then  be  in  his  power  to  obtain  euch  security 
as  to  render  him  safe  against  the  threatenings  of  Bur- 
roughs ;  but  for  others  to  undertake  a  prosecution  of  this 
business,  upon  a  vague  report,  is  not  only  out  of  the  cucs- 
tion,  but  is  ridiculous  to  the  last  degree." 

Deacon  MOIullen  being  driven  from  all  his  strong 
holds,  began  to  grov/  uneasy  at  the  approaching  tsrmina- 
tion  of  that  cause  upon  which  he  had  entered  v>ith  so  miicii 
sanguine  assurance.  However,  as  his  last  resort,  he  ad- 
verted again  to  the  pay  which  I  had  anticipated  for  one 
day's  preaching,  which  I  had  not  yet  performed,  and  said 
he  was  very  sensible  I  did  not  mean  to  perform,  and  to  my 
deceiving  them  under  a  false  name. 

"  As  to  obviating  the  first  difficulty,  this  objection 
arises,"  said  the  by-stander,  "  from  whom  did  Burroughs 
receive  this  money  which  you  mention  ?"  "  From  Dea- 
con Gray,  our  committee  for  supplying  the  pulpit,"  said 
Deacon  MOIullen.  "  Then,"  said  the  other,  '^  the  busi- 
nes  stands  thus  :  Burroughs  stands  indebted  to  Deacon 
Gray  for  money  had  and  received  of  him,  to  the  amount  of 
the  sum  total.  On  the  other  hand,  Deacon  Gray  stands 
Indebted  to  Burroughs  for  the  services  whichhe  has  ren- 
dered, according  to  their  agreement.  Now,  if  Deacon 
Gray's  advances  have  been  greater  than  his  receipts,  \\\\- 
doubtedly  Burroughs  is  indebted  to  Deacon  Gray  for  the 
balance,  and  ought  to  pay  him  according  to  contract ;  but 
as  you  have  no  power  to  act  for  Deacon  Gray,  I  do  net 
conceive  how  you  can  have  any  demand,  either  mediately 
or  immediately,  against  Burroughs  on  that  account ;  cJid 
if  Burroughs  should  even  pay  you  back  the  five  dollar-, 
which  you  say,  though  without  any  legal  evidence,  bo 
owes  Deacon  Gray,  yet  that  would  not  exonerate  Bur- 
roughs from  the  debt,  or  make  him  less  liable  to  pay  i:;. 
G  2 


rs  MEMOIRS  OF 

ever  ag-ain.  And  as  forliis  deceii-ing you  uv  a  fcdsc  name, 
I  will  tell  you  how  you  mny  settle  that  inatler,  in  the  best 
vray  I  can  think  of.  I  recollect,  some  years  since,  when 
r^.Ir.  Abicrombie  was  your  minister,  there  was  an  uneasi- 
ness prevailing  among  his  people  on  account  of  his  intem- 
perance ;  they  therefore  chose  a  committee,  of  whom  I 
think  you,  Deacon  M'MuUen,  was  one,  to  deal  with  him 
for  this  crime.  They  accordingly  came.  The  old  fox  un- 
derstood how  to  avoid  the  trap.  He  had  laid  in  some  ex- 
cellent West-India  rum,  treated  the  committee  with  great 
hospitality,  and.  in  the  language  of  the  poet,  caused  them 
to  "  drink  deep  at  the  iountain  of  pleasure,"  till  they  were 
imable  to  leave  him  through  the  night,  on  account  of  dip- 
ping too  deep  into  the  sv.cets,  for  which  they  were  about 
to  reprove  him.  Under  this  situation,  they  concluded  the 
rext  moiTiing,  as  the  better  way,  to  make  their  report  to 
the  church,  that  Mr.  Abicrombie  had  given  them  christian 
satisfaction.  They  did  so,  and  here  this  matter  ended. 
Now>  continued  this  by-stander,  the  way  that  I  propose  is, 
lor  Burroughs  to  do  as  Mr.  Abicrombie  did',  and  for  you  to 
accept  itas  christian  satisfaclion  from  this  minister  as  well 
as  that.  Wood  keeps  an  excellent  tavern  hard  by  ;  I  pro- 
pose for  all  to  move  \xp  there." 

This  proposal  was  finally  accepted  by  all.  I  therefore 
came  <Iown,  and  we  all  wxnt  up  towards  the  tavern.  I 
called  for  drink,  according  to  the  orator's  advice,  to  the 
Batisfaction  of  all,  till  Hind,  whom  I  had  knocked  down 
■^^ith  the  stone,  came  among  them.  He  foamed  with  rage 
i'-nd  disappointment.  A  number  of  them  retired  into 
snother  room  to  consult  on  measures  to  be  adopted  for 
their  future  procedure.  I  learned  that  they  had  entered 
into  a  determination  to  carry  me  back  to  Pelham  by  force 
of  arms.  I  was  doubtful  whether  people  Avould  interfere 
wLere  they  were  not  immediately  interested,  so  as  to  pre- 
vent this  being  done.  I  concluded  it  best,  by  all  means, 
to  put  this  project  out  of  the  power  of  the  Pelhamites. 
Being  in  a  room  on  the  second  story,  I  locked  myself  in. 
Whe'n  they  came  after  me,  they  found  my  door  locked, 
and  immediately  determined  to  break  it  open.  They  sent 
some  of  their  number  for  an  axe.  Ileurii^g  this,  I  jumpc<l 


STEPHEN   BURROUGHS.  7d 

out  of  the  window,  on  to  the  horse-shed,  and  off  that  on  to 
the  ground,  close  by  those  who  Avere  after  the  axe. 

Commg  so  suddenly  among  them,  they  had  net  time  to 
recollect  themselves,  so  as  to  know  what  this  meant,  till  I 
liad  run  the  distance  of  twenty  rods,  when  they  started  after 
me  ;  but  one  of  their  number  much  exceeded  the  rest  in 
swiftness,  so  that  in  running  sixty  rods,  he  was  twenty  rods 
before  the  others.  By  this  time  I  was  out  of  breath  by  run- 
ning, and  coming  to  a  high  wall,  made  of  small  stones,  I 
jumped  over  it,  and  sat  down  behind  it  by  a  tree  standing 
against  the  wall.  I  took  a  stone  in  rQy  hand  as  I  went  over, 
intending  to  knock  down  the  foremost  man  when  he  came 
up  to  me,  which  I  supposed  would  be  easy  to  do,  as  I 
should  take  him  by  surprise,  and  execute  my  plan  before 
he  could  defend  himself;  after  this  should  be  performed, 
I  could  easily  out-run  the  rest,  as  I  should  by  this  time  be 
rested,  and  be  forward  of  them.  An  alder  swamp,  about 
half  a  mile  distant,  was  my  object. 

When  the  foremost  man  came  up  to  the  wall,  I  heard 
him  panting  and  puffing  for  breath,  and  instead  of  being 
able  to  leap  over,  he  ran  against  it,  and  threw  it  down  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  cover  me  almost  entirely  from  si^ht; 
the  stones  falling  against  the  tree  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
do  me  no  injury.  The  man  ran  tlirough  the  breach  of  the 
wall,  and  continued  his  course  about  fifteen  rods  beyond 
iTie,  and  stopped  till  the  others  came  up,  who  anxiously 
inquired  what  had  become  of  Burroughs  ?  The  others  re- 
plied, that  he  had  run  like  a  deer  across  the  meadow,  and 
gone  into  the  alder  swamp. 

They  concluded  it  vrouid  be  in  vain  to  follow  me — gave 
up  the  chase — went  back  to  the  tavern — took  a  little  more 
satisfaction,  and  returned  to  Pelham.  After  they  were 
gone,  I  crept  out  of  my  hiding  place,  and  returned  to 
Frink's  store.  My  first  object  of  going  into  business, 
through  his  recommendation,  v/as  now  lost.  After  this 
uproar,  I  did  not  wish  to  find  employment  in  Rutland  ; 
neither  did  I  suppose  Mr.  Frink  would  feel  that  freedom 
in  recommending  me  to  others. 


f 


80  MEMOIRS  OF 

CHAP.  XII. 

"  Again  the  youtli  his  wonted  life  reg^in'd ; 

*'  A  transient  sparkle  in  his  eye  obtain'd ; 

*'  A  rising"  glow  his  tender  thoughts  confess'd, 

"  And  the  soft  motions  of  his  melting  breast. 

*'  But  soon  dark  gloom  the  feeble  smiles  o'erspi*ead ; 

*'  Like  mom's  gay  hues,  the  fading  splendor's  fled ; 

**  Returning  anguish  froze  his  feeling  soul ; 

*'  Deep  sighs  burst  forth — and  tears  beg-an  to  roll." 


E 


I ARLY  the  next  morning  I  left  Rutland,  and  travelled 
on  towards  Providence,  endeavoring  again  to  learn  where 
I  could  find  a  vacancy  for  preaching.  On  the  road  I  heard 
of  a  town  called  Attleborough,  nine  miles  from  Provi- 
dence, where  they  were  destitute  of  a  preacher,  and  want- 
ed one.  I  came  to  this  town,  and -engaged  to  preach  four 
Sundays.  Here,  I  called  myself  by  my  own  name,  and 
engaged  only  for  a  short  time,  expecting  I  could  tarry 
here  that  length  of  time  without  any  disagreeable  reports 
following  me.  I  took  lodgings  at  Mrs,  Weld's,  widow  of 
the  former  minister  of  AttJeborough.  The  family  consist- 
ed of  the  old  lady  and  her  maiden  daughter.  They  were 
both  agreeable,  and  of  course  the  whole  time  I  spent  here 
was  pleasing.  I  formed,  whilst  in  this  place,  many  new 
acquaintances,  which  heightened  the  enjoyment  of  the 
scene  ;  one  in  a  particular  manner,  which  I  cannot  think 
of,  even  at  this  day,  without  feeling  the  flush  of  pleasing 
emotions. 

I  found  the  people  of  Attleborough  were  desirous  to 
have  me  continue  longer,  after  the  term  of  my  first  engage- 
ment had  expired  ;  but  I  positively  refused  to  do  it,  alledg- 
ing  that  I  was  engaged  to  preach  at  Danbury,  in  Connec- 
ticut, which  in  fact  was  true,  having  entered  into  an  en- 
gagement of  that  kind  with  a  man  belonging  there,  who 
had  heard  me  preach  in  Attleborough. 

I  had  determined  in  my  own  mind  to  take  Coventry  in 
my  way,  as  I  went  to  Danbury,  and  see  Joseph  Hunting- 
ton, for  this  particular  purpose,  viz.  Hearing  that  a  gen- 
tleman from  Amherst  was  going  to  Dartmouth  College, 
previous  to  holding  the  anniversary  commencement,  and 
that  he  had  a  design  to  make  such  representations  to  the 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  Si 

corporation  of  said  College,  against  Huntington,  for  acting 
a  part  in  the  Pelham  business,  as  should  deprive  him  of 
the  degree  of  a.  b.  As  H — n  had  passed  his  examination 
for  this  degree,  and  was  approved  previous  to  his  leaving 
the  College,  it  was  in  his  power  to  obtain  his  degree  at  any- 
other  College.  Therefore,  I  had  a  desire  to  give  him  in- 
formation of  the  evil  which  was  hatching  against  him,  that 
he  might  avoid  it  by  applying  elsewhere,  and  obtaining 
that  which  his  own  Alma  Mater  was  about  to  refuse.  I 
accordingly  came  to  Coventry,  and  gave  him  this  infor- 
mation. Huntington,  accordingly,  made  immediate  ap- 
plication to  the  College  in  New-Haven,  in  Connecticut, 
end  obtained  his  title  of  a.  b. 

When  these  matters  came  to  be  known  at  Dartmouth 
College,  that  Huntington  had  fairly  stolen  a  march  upon 
them,  and  consequently,  warded  off  the  stroke  of  fulmina- 
tion  which  they  had  laid  by  in  store  for  him,  there  was  no 
small  stir  about  the  matter  ;  but  no  help  could  be  obtain- 
ed, for  then  he  had  his  diplomatic  commission,  which 
could  not  be  recalled,  or  wrenched  out  of  his  hands.  They 
suspected  the  Doctor  as  being  confederate  with  his  son  in 
this  business ;  and  hence,  an  altercation,  warm  and  re- 
criminating, took  place  ;  but  their  suspicion  of  the  old 
Doctor's  being  acquainted  or  active  in  this  business,  was 
entirely  ujifounded. 

The  Doctor  had  ever  designed  his  son  should  receive  a 
degree  at  the  College  in  New-Haven  as  well  as  at  Hano- 
A  er,  and  as  the  commencem^ent  at  New-Haven  was  previ- 
ous to  that  at  Hanover,  he  v/as  very  willing  his  son  should 
take  his  degree  at  New-Haven  in  the  first  place  ;  but  was, 
at  that  time,  totally  ignorant  of  any  intention  of  refusing 
his  son  the  same  degree  at  Dartmouth  College. 

The  commencement  at  Dartmouth  College  having  ar- 
rived, the  Doctor  and  his  son  came  on.  When  the  rea- 
sons ot  the  corporation  v/ere  offered  for  not  granting  his 
son  a  degree,  the  Doctor  thought  them  highly  inadequate 
to  answer  such  a  purpose,  and  remonstrated  with  Avarrnth 
en  the  i.rpropriety  of  their  conduct,  but  all  to  no  purpose. 
The  Doctor  had  been  enthusiastically  pursuing  ihe  pros- 
perity of  this  College,  being  a  member  of  the  corporation 
liimsclf.     These  difnculties  cooled  his  affections.      He 


82  MEMOIRS  OF 

sooH  after  resigned  his  office  of  trustee,  and  dropped  all 
further  connexions  with  the  institution. 

When  I  left  Coventry,  I  was  determined  to  make  a  visit 
to  Lysander,  in  Pelham,  and  see  whether  he  had  brought 
his  business  of  transmuting  metals  to  perfection  ;  and 
whether  he  had  made  the  necessary  arrangements  for 
prosecuting  our  intended  voyage  to  the  Isle  of  Sable  ;  and, 
in  fine,  to  see  what  aspect  the  whole  business  now  wore. 
I  accordingly  travelled  again  into  the  state  of  Massachu- 
setts, and  arrived  in  Pelham  about  1  o'clock  at  night,  at 
the  house  of  Lysander. 

Those  who  have  felt  the  glow  of  friendship,  will  readi- 
ly conceive  of  my  feelings,  at  meeting  again  in  this  agree- 
able family.  The  contemplation  of  this  object  kept  me 
in  the  highest  flow  of  spirits,  during  my  solitaiy  ride 
through  the  greatest  part  of  this  gloomy  night.  My  heart 
expanded  with  fraternal  kindness  towards  them.  My 
whole  soul  was  tuned  to  the  soft  harmony  of  friendship  ^ 
and  I  had  formed  in  my  mind  a  thousand  tender  expres- 
sions, to  communicate  the  overflowing  of  my  feelings  to- 
wards them.  Never  did  the  lover  fly  with  greater  rapture. 
to  the  arms  of  his  mistress,  than  what  I  did  to  the  embra- 
ces of  this  beloved  family.  A  thousand  soft  expressions 
I  had  anticipated  from  them.  My  heart  beat  quick  with 
the  palpitations  of  pleasure,  and  my  whole  soul  was  in  exta- 
cy  at  entering  their  house.  My  reception  was  equal  to  my 
most  sanguine  expectations  ;  and  to  endeavor  to  describe 
this  scene,  would  but  shew  how  absolutely  incapable  lan- 
guage is,  to  a  real  representation  of  those  exquisite  joys, 
which  flow  from  a  heart  of  sensibility. 

We  mutually  recapitulated  the  entertaining  occurren- 
ces which  had  taken  place,  in  the  time  of  our  absence. 
We  laughed  at  the  strange  whims  and  manoeuvres  of  the 
Pelhamites  ;  at  their  chagrin,  when  returning  from  Hut- 
land  ;  at  their  consultations  and  execrations  upon  me,  for 
an  impostor  ;  and  upon  the  people  of  Rutland,  for  not  ris- 
ing up  to  a  man,  and  fighting  the  battle  of  the  Lord.  Af- 
ter we  had  ended  the  first  friendly  salutation,  and  that 
course  of  information  which  flows  in  upon  the  mind  im- 
mediately after  those  salutations,  I  inquired  of  Lysander^. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  8S 

what  were  his  prospects  with  regard  to  transmuting  met- 
als, and  more  particularly  of  changing  copper  into  silver. 
At  this  question,  my  friend  Lysander  looked  disconcerted 
and  seemed  embarrassed  at  giving  me  an  answer.  His 
wife  smiled  significantly.  I  saw  there  was  something  in 
the  business  I  did  not  understand.  My  anxiety  and  curi- 
osity were  excited.  I  enquired  with  solicitation  into  the 
meaning  of  what  I  saw. 

Lysander  by  this  time,  saw  I  was  in  earnest.  He  at 
first  entertained  an  idea  that  I  was  treating  him  in  a  satiri- 
cal manner.  That  I  svas  fully  possessed  with  a  knowl- 
edge of  facts  after  which  I  enquired,  and  consequently, 
rallied  him  on  a  subject  too  disagreeable  to  be  called  into 
remembrance  in  this  manner.  He  was  now  satisfied  of  the 
contrary.  His  countenance  fell.  The  tear  glittered  in 
his  eye.  He  said,  "  Burroughs,  we  have  been  deceived  ! 
greatly  deceived  by  Philips,  that  king  of  villians.  Could 
you  have  thought,  that  ail  the  experiments  which  he  tried 
before  us,  when  we  were  at  Salem,  were  nothing  but  the 
vilest  deception  ?  It  truly  is  the  case.  We  were  not  alone 
the  dupes  of  his  duplicity.  He  had  led  as  many  as  thirty 
men  into  the  same  belief,  until  he  had  obtained  property 
of  us  to  the  amount  of  tvv'o  thousand  dollars,  and  then  he 
vv^as  suddenly  missed.  Search  was  made  after  him,  in 
every  direction,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  He  could  not  be 
found.  Nothing  could  be  heard  of  him.  That  elegant 
mare,  that  you  formerly  so  much  admired,  the  villian  had 
obtained  from  me,  with  one  hundred  dollars  in  cash,  when 
he  left  this  country. 

''  His  partner,  who  Vvas  knowing  to  all  his  hellish  m.anoeu- 
vres  to  deceive,  was  equally  cheated  with  the  rest  of  us. 
Philips  having  promised  him  one  half  the  booty  for  his 
assistance,  but  left  him  equally  destitute  with  the  rest. 
This  man,  finding  matters  in  this  forlorn  situation,  reveal- 
ed all  the  artful  plans  which  Philips  had  recourse  to,  in 
order  to  make  mankind  believe  he  possessed  the  secret  of 
changing  one  metal  into  another. 

»•  We  could  not  any  of  us  believe,  but  what  Philips  had 
the  knowledge  he  pretended  to,  so  fair  were  his  experi- 
ments, until  we  saw  them  all  unveiled  by  his  partner,  who 


34  MExMOIRS  OF 

went  over  them  again,  shewing  us,  at  the  same  time,  how 
Philips  practiced  the  deception  at  every  experiment." 

As  I  have  already  given  you  an  account  respecting  this 
series  of  deception,  I  shall  not  repeat  Lysander*s  narra- 
tive of  it  any  further  in  this  place.  I  now  found  those  ideas 
of  wealth,  which  had  before  so  wholly  possessed  my  mind, 
entirely  unfounded  The  painted  vision  fled  quickly  from 
sight ;  the  aiiy  bubble  broke  in  an  instant,  and  left  me  in 
the  abyss  of  poverty. 

My  hopes  in  this  resource  had  been  sanguine.  I  had 
reflected  upon  the  subject  till  I  was  as  conftdent  of  ex- 
tensive wealth,  as  of  any  occurrence  which  had  not  taken 
place.  I  felt  all  the  enjoyment  of  the  advantages  result- 
ing from  property.  I  had  formed  in  my  o^^^l  mind,  schemes 
of  conduct  through  life.  How  I  should  make  the  rich  re- 
spect me,  and  the  poor  adore  me.  What  exquisite  pleas- 
ure, said  I,  shall  I  enjoy  in  relie\-ing  the  heart  of  distress  ? 
In  distributing  bread  to  the  hungry,  clothes  to  the  naked, 
and  consolation  to  the  broken-hearted  ?  I  had  already,  in 
imagination,  distribuied  such  benefits  through  the  land,  as 
not  to  leave  a  poor  person  to  inhabit  his  poverty.  I  beheld 
myself  at  the  head  of  a  people,  distributing  joy  and  glad- 
ness. I  saw  the  brow  unclouded  with  care.  Hilarity  and 
vivacity  were  in  the  countenances  of  all  ;  an  index  of 
peace  and  quiet  withki.  Hail,  happy  people  1  said  I,  where 
no  want  is  known  to  thee,  where  no  anxious  care  cor- 
rodes the  breast. 

These  were,  sir,  the  fond  images  which  I  had  pictured 
in  my  imagination.  I  was  at  this  time,  in  a  state  of  real 
delirium  ;  but  it  was  a  delirium  of  joy  ;  a  state  of  happi- 
ness which  I  believe  none  can  have  a  just  idea  of  ;  for  I 
expect  none  ever  allowed  their  imagination  so  far  to  get 
the  start  of  their  judgment  ;  and  therefore,  when  I  awoke 
from  my  delirium,  to  a  sense  of  my  real  situation,  and  saw 
that  in  the  room  of  distributing  wealth  to  others,  I  had  but 
barely  the  necessaries  of  life  for  myself,  and  that  the  sup- 
ply for  those  necessaries  was  on  a  very  precarious  footing, 
I  awoke  to  distress,  anguish,  mortification,  and  chagrin. 
My  feelings  were  shocked  beyond  description,  with  this 
sudden  reverse  of  fortune  1 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  fe.: 

I  believe  that  the  disappointment  would  not  have  been 
greater,  or  more  keenly  felt,  had  I  in  reality  been  in  pos- 
session of  all  the  enjoyments  which  I  had  so  ingeniously 
pictured  to  my  view,  and  from  that  state,  had  been  leduccd 
on  a  sudden,  to  poverty  as  great  as  what  in  ix;ality  row  ex- 
isted. My  friend  Lysander  and  his  wife  saw  the  working?; 
of  my  mind.  They  had  passed  through  the  same  scenes 
tliemselves.  They  tried  to  console  my  feelings.  They 
discoursed  upon  the  uncertain  events  of  this  woi'Id  like 
philosophers.  They  advened  to  the  disappointments 
which  all  meet  with  daily :  to  that  fortitude  which  we 
ought  to  exercise  under  every  trial,  so  as  to  rise  above  dis- 
appointment, rather  than  to  have  disappointment  rise 
above  us.  That  riches  and  poverty  were  nothing  but  im- 
aginary beings,  created  by  our  own  fancy,  by  compaiing 
one  situation  with  another,  and  thereby  giving  a  name  to 
each  :  to  the  calls  of  nature,  as  being  very  simple,  and  ea- 
sily supplied,  if  we  would  rest  contented  with  that  supply  ; 
and  that  every  thing  beyond  tended  to  render  us  uneasy, 
rather  than  to  contribute  to  our  happiness. 

How  easy  it  is  for  man  to  give  the  most  salutary  advice 
t-o  his  fellow.  In  reasoning  upon  a  system  in  theory,  ma- 
ny will  discover  a  depth  of  wisdom  beyond  our  expecta- 
tions ;  yet,  when  they  attempt  to  reduce  this  advice,  found- 
ed in  theory,  into  practice,  how  great  the  contrast !  The 
feelings  of  the  human  heart,  the  vreaknesses  of  nature,  and 
the  errors  of  judgment,  all  set  themselves  in  array  against 
us,  when  we  attempt  to  listen  to  the  dictates  of  wisdom  in 
our  practice. 

Happy  would  it  have  been  for  Lysander  and  family,  yea, 
thrice  happy  would  it  have  been  for  me,  had  we  attended 
in  our  practice  to  those  lessons  of  reason  :  but  alas  !  the 
mania  of  wealth  had  taken  strong  possession  of  our  minds, 
and  we  listened  with  eagerness  to  her  calls.  This  soon 
reduced  me  to  a  state  of  wretchedness  far  beyond  the 
power  of  language  to  describe.  But,  sir,  as  ycur  m.esscn- 
ger  is  in  waiting,  I  will  end  this  letter,  coucludit.g  that  the 
God  of  night  will  cast  his  sable  mantle  over  your  mind  be- 
fore you  read  this  chapter :  I  am  as  always,  &c. 

H 


SG  MEMOIRS  OF 

;  CHAP.  XIII. 

*'  I  see  tlie  circling-  iiimts  of  noisy  men, 

*'  Bilrst  Law's  enclosure,  leap  the  mounds  of  right, 

*'  Pursuing",  and  pursued,  each  other's  prey ; 

''  As  wolves,  for  rapine  ;  as  the  fox,  for  wiles  ; 

"  Till  Death,  that  mighty  hunter,  earths  them  all." 

JLN  order  to  give  me  some  consolation  for  the  disappoint- 
ment Y^hich  I  had  suffered,  Lysander  told  me  he  hst^a 
plan  in  kgitation  which  would  operate  nearly  as  well  as  we 
cxpectyjd  the  other  would  have  done.  "  Glazier  Whee- 
ler," siaid  he,  "  is  a  man  who  can  be  depended  on  for  his 
hGne'i(y  to  those  for  whom  he  undertakes  to  work,  and  he 
can  -make  one  silver  dollar  into  three  counterfeits,  which 
%vili/pass  as  well  as  any.  And  it  will  be  in  our  power  to 
prcysecute  our  intended  expedition  to  the  Isle  of  Sable  up- 
oiy  this  scheme,  with  nearly  as  great  profit  as  w'e  expected 
from  transmuting  metals.  We  shall  not  be  with  the  old 
TSian  a  great  while,  before  we  shall  be  able  to  work  at  that 
pusiness  as  well  as  he  ;  and  should  Ave  find  it  necessary, 
can  hire  a  number  of  hands,  and  drive  the  business,  at  this 
place  to  a  great  extent ;  as  w^e  shall  be  retired  from  the  ob- 
servations of  the  world,  and  can  carry  on  the  business 
without  molestation.'*' 

My  answer  to  Lysander  was  to  this  purport. — "  You  are 
sensible  that  counterfeiting  the  coin  of  any  country  is  con- 
trary, not  only  to  the  laws  of  that  country,  but  likewise  to 
the  laws  of  our  own  minds,  having  implicitly  engaged  to 
observe  and  protect  those  laws,  w^hen  w^e  once  take  advan- 
tage of  tlieir  efficacy  to  protect  us  in  the  enjoyment  of  our 
rights  and  privileges  ;  therefore,  should  the  business  suc- 
ceed according  to  our  most  sanguine  wishes,  and  the  coin 
pass  to  the  end  of  time  as  standard  silver,  yet  we  should  as 
really  violate  the  simple  principles  of  justice,  as  though 
we  should  be  detected  in  passing  coin  so  base  as  to  serve 
only  a  temporary  purpose,  and  die  in  the  hands  of  an  in- 
nocent person.  The  transgression  would  be  as  absolute, 
should  it  never  transpire  to  the  world,  or  be  attended  with 
any  personal  injury,  as  though  it  should  be  proclaimed  to 
the  universe  ;  therefore,  this  reason  alone  v/ouid  be  suf!i- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  ST 

Lent  to  deter  rae  from  wishing  suchr  a  thin,'^  to  take  place. 
Another  very  powerful  reason  is,  the  danger  we  run  in 
prosecuting  sucli  a  matter,  and  the  ruin  which  would  in- 
evitably follow  a  detection.  Glazier  Wheeler,  it  appears, 
has  followed  this  business- for  fifty  ye^irs  constantly  ;  yet  he 
never  could  bring  his  ai  t  to  such  perfection  as  to  have  his 
money  pass  undetected.  Hovv-  often  has  he  been  confir.cd, 
pilloried,  cropt  and  whipt  for  this  business  ?  How  many 
have  been  involved  in  the  same  diliiculty,  who  cnibarkecl 
in  this  dangerous  voyage  with  him  r  Hov/  then  can  we  ex- 
pect to  share  a  better  fate  ?  And  what  v.ould  be  the  con- 
sequence of  a  detection  ?  The  property  which  you  now 
possess  would  be  swept  away  ;  your  children  would  cry  in 
v.iin  for  bread ;  your  reputation,  which  you  nov»-  hold  so 
dear,  w^ould  be  lost  forever ;  and  you  would  entail  misery 
and  infamy  on  your  posterity.  You  must  then  be  separat- 
ed from  your  companion,  from  your  children,  from  your 
friends  ;  confined  in  a  jail,  a  receptacle  for  the  off-scour- 
ings  of  nature  ;  treated  with  contempt ;  injured  without 
pity  ;  made  the  scoff  and  jeer  of  fools.  This,  sir,  is  a 
scene  for  a  mind  of  sensibility.'* 

The  wife  of  Lysander  heard  this  discourse  with  the  ut- 
most attention.  Her  countenance  was  a  strong  index  (o 
the  feelings  of  her  mind.  Her  color  went  and  came.  She 
now  grew  pale  with  apprehension,  and  now  her  cheeks 
redened  v.ith  the  flush  of  desire,  to  prevent  her  beloved 
husband  from  rushing  into  dangers  so  desperate.  She  re- 
monstrated. She  expostulatecT.  She  entreated.  But  ail 
to  no  purpose.  Lysander  was  fixed,  and  nothing  was  able 
to  remove  his  resolution.  He  turned  to  his  wife,  with  a 
look  of  that  ineffable  sweetness  which  overpowers  the 
mind,  and  said,  "  My  dear,  I  wish  ver\'  much  to  see  you  in 
possession  of  a  coach,  which  I  shall  send  you  in  a  few- 
months." 

'•  As  to  the  objections  which  you  offer,  Mr.  Burroughs,*' 
said  Lysander,  "  I  will  endeavor  to  answer  them  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  give  you  full  satisfaction  on  that  subject. 
If  mankind  had  no  disposition  to  infringe  upon  the  rights 
cf  each  other,  there  would  be  no  need  of  law  ;  anc  t'^e 
whole  nature,  design  and  spirit  of  law  is  to  prote:  . 


88  MEMOIRS  OF 

other  from  injury ;  and  where  no  injury  is  intended,  no'i' 
in  fact  done,  the  whole  essence  of  law  is  attended  to.  I 
know  the  h^w  speaks  in  general  terms,  because  it  cannot 
descend  to  particulars,  there  being  such  an  infinity,  as  to 
put  it  ])cyond  the  power  of  man  to  comprehend  the  whole 
in  a  system  ;  therefore,  general  principles  must  direct  us 
in  our  interpretation  of  law.  We  ought,  in  our  conduct, 
to  act  as  men  possessing  reason  sufficient  to  direct  us  un- 
der the  various  occurrences  of  life,  so  as  to  vary  our  con- 
duct according  as  circumstances  shall  point  cut,  keeping 
in  view,  and  practising  upon  the  spirit  of  law  ;  and  when 
we  attend  to  this,  we  cannot  be  skid,  in  reality,  to  trans- 
gress the  laws  of  the  land,  nor  indeed  the  laws  of  our  own 
mind,  because  we  in  fact  do  fulfil  our  compact  with  socie- 
ty, viz.  protect  euch  other  fi'om  injury. 

^  "  From  what  I  hcve  observed,  1  believe  you  will  readily 
agree  with  me,  that  I  am  right  in  prosecuting  my  present 
plan,  if  I  can  make  it  evident,  that  no  danger  of  injury  will 
uiise  to  any  one  from  it,  and  that  by  it,  many  will  be  made 
better.  Money,  of  itself,  is  of  no  consequence,  only  as 
■^e,  by  mutual  agreement,  annex  to  it  a  nominal  value,  as 
the  representation  of  property.  Any  thing  else  might 
?.T:?.Tr-€v  the  same  purpose,  equally  with  silver  and  gold, 
:  r.ould  mankind  only  agree  to  consider  it  as  such,  and  car- 
iy  that  agreement  into  execution  in  their  dealings  with 
each  other.  We  find  this  verified  in  fact,  by  those  bills  of 
credit  which  are  in  circulation  through  the  world.  Those 
bills,  simply,  are  good  for  nothing  ;  but  the  moment  man- 
kind agree  to  put  u  value  on  them,  as  representing  proper- 
ty, they  become  of  as  great  consequence  as  silver  and  gold, 
and  no  one  is  injured  by  receiving  a  small  insignificant 
piece  of  paper  for  an  hundred  bushels  of  wheat,  when 
mankind  stamp  that  value  upon  it,  by  agreeing  to  receive 
it  for  that  amount.  Therefore,  we  find  the  only  thing  ne- 
cessary to  make  a  matter  valujable,  is  to  induce  the  world 
to  deem  it  so  ;  and  let  that  esteem  be  raised  by  any  means 
whatever,  yet  the  value  is  the  same,  and  no  one  becomes 
injured  by  receiving  it  at  the  valuation.  Hence,  we  fiind 
tlie  wo^ld  putting  an  enormous  value  upon  certain  stones, 
■yvliich  intrin^icaliv  arc  of  no  use  ;  as  for  instance,  the  di;i- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  89 

mond,  the  carbuncle,  Sec.  These  stones  cannot  be  made 
use  of  in  any  pursuit  of  life.  They  will  not  serve  for  food, 
for  raiment,  or  for  any  instrument  of  any  kind  whatever  ; 
therefore,  of  what  real  use  can  they  be  ?  Their  scarcity, 
and  certain  peculiarities,  have  induced  mankind  to  esteem 
them  ;  and  this  esteem  stamps  a  vahie  upon  them,  so  that 
they  pass  from  one  to  another  as  the  representation  of 
property  ;  hence,  the  holders  of- them  always  have  a  valu- 
able possession,  and  probably  always  will  have,  which  they 
at  any  time  can  exchange  for  property  of  more  immediate 
consequence  to  their  support.  Had  I  the  art  of  makinp^ 
diamonds,  do  you  suppose  I  should  transgress  the  laws  of 
equity  in  putting  that  art  into  practice  ?  except  I  should 
fill  the  Yvorld  with  them,  so  as  to  destroy  their  scarcity, 
and  hence  depreciate  tht>ir  value  in  the  hands  of  others. 
To  put  this  art  into  practice,  so  as  to  enrich  myself,  and 
not  destroy  that  due  proportion  between  representative 
property  and  real  property,  is  doing  myseli"  a  favor,  and 
injuring  none.  Gold  and  silver  are  made  use  of  for  con- 
venience, to  transact  our  business  of  barter  and  exchange 
with  each  other,  as  the  representation  of  property,  it  bein,t; 
less  cumbersome,  and  more  easy  to  communicate  from 
one  to  another,  than  real  property  of  any  kind  :  hence, 
when  there  is  a  due  proportion  of  representative  property, 
business  cr.n  be  transacted  to  the  greatest  advantage,  and 
with  the  greatest  ease.  And  when  the  public  experience 
a  scarcity  or  redundancy,  they  of  course  suffer  an  incon- 
veniency  :  therefore,  that  person  who  contributes  his  mito 
to  keep  the  balance  between  these  two  species  of  proper- 
ty justly  poised,  is  a  blcsjAng  to  himself,  and  to  the  com- 
munity of  which  he  is  a  member.  That  an  undue  scar- 
city of  cash  now  prevails,  is  a  truth  too  obvious  for  me  to 
attempt  to  prove.  Your  own  observation  will  convince 
you  of  it.  Hence,  v/hoever  contributes,  really,  tn  increase 
the  quantity  of  cash,  does  not  qnly  himself,  but  likewise 
the  community,  an  essential  benelic.  And,  that  this  can 
he  done,  in  the  pursuit  which  I  have  undertaken,  and  with- 
out endangering  the  .safety  of  any  g'^:\  I  •"•11  convin-^  vou 
by  ocular  demonctr.^.tion." 


90  MEMOIRS  OF 

lie  then  presented  me  -with  a  bag  of  dollars,  which  his 
said  were  made  by  Glazier  Wheeler.  I  poured  theni-aH 
out ;  I  examined  them  with  care,  as  I  then  thought ;  I 
compared  them  uith  other  dollars,  which  were  good.  I 
could  discover  no  difference. 

His  arguments  now  stood  all  plain  before  me  ;  they 
were  collected  in  a  line  ;  and  what  do  you  think  was  the 
consequence  ?  I  blush  to  tell  you  ^he  truth  1 — I  feel  asham- 
ed of  my  own  weakness  I — My  great  want  of  solid  judg- 
ment at  that  time,  almost  persuades  me  to  hide  the  rela- 
tion of  this  fact.  These  arguments  convinced  me,  un- 
founded as  they  were. 

I.ysander  told  me  his  intentions  were  to  pay  strict  atten- 
tion to  the  business,  and  did  not  doubt  his  finally  raising 
himself  and  family  to  a  state  of  t4ie  greatest  afftuence.  He 
had  already  obtained  a  sufficiency  to  ans^ver  present  pur- 
poses. He  should  soon  obtain  much  more.  The  business 
was  at  a  stand,  just  at  present,  for  want  of  drugs  proper 
for  cari7inglt  forward.  He  intended  to  go  soon  to  Spring- 
field, vrhere  he  should  obtain  whatever  he  wanted  for  such 
a  purpose. 

Lysander  had  not  yet  passed,  or  attempted  to  pass,  any 
of  his  money.  As  I  expected  to  leave  his  house  the  next 
night,  on  my  rout  to  Danbun/,  and  to  pass  through  Spring- 
field in  my  way,  he  agreed  to  set  out  with  mc,  and  go  his 
rout  in  my  company.  His  wife  had  ever  felt  dissatisfied 
about  this  business  ;  being  easily  alarmed  with  the  least 
appearance  of  danger,  towards  one  in  whom  her  happiness 
was  so  essentially  embraced  ;  but  when  I  drew  the  dread- 
ful picture  of  a  detection,  she  grew  almost  frantic  with 
fear  ;  and  when  she  saw  that  no  entreaties  would  prevail 
over  his  determination,  she  embraced  the  first  opportuni- 
ty of  conversing  with  me  alone  :  and  besought  me  in  those 
moving  terms,  which  would  have  melted  a  savage,  to  use 
my  influence  to  prevent  him  from  prosecuting  his  present 
undertaking. 

Her  grief  spoke  more  powerfully  for  her,  than  all  the 
oratory  of  a  Burke.  I  could  noi  resist  her  importunity. 
The  language  of  her  countenance  and  actions  were  irre- 
sistible.    When  Lys.inder  c-ame  into  our  comp:ir.y,  I  be- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  n 

gan  the  attack  in  the  most  vulnerable  part  of  his  fortress, 
i  endeavored  to  set  the  distress  of  his  wife  in  its  true  light 
before  him.  I  recapitulated  his  own  arguments,  which 
he  had  before  used,  in  order  to  induce  me  "  to  be  content- 
ed with  a  bare  competency."  I  repeated  to  him  emphat- 
ically the  words  of  Young,  in  his  "  Night  Thoughts,"  viz. 

"  Why  all  this  toil,  for  triumphs  of  an  hour  ? 
"  What  tho'  we  wade  in  wealth,  or  soar  in  fame, 
<'  Earth's  highest  station  ends  in  "  Here  he  lies." 

I  told  him  I  knew  perfectly  well  his  sincere  aifections 
for  his  ^\dfe,  and  his  ambition  of  seeing  her  become  pos- 
sessed of  an  eq«ipage,  Sec.  But  believe  me,  sir,  not  all 
the  pomp  and  splendor  of  riches  will  repay  her  for  the 
pain  and  anxiety  she  will  endure  on  your  account,  for  the 
space  of  one  day,  when  you  have  absolutely  launched  into 
this  dangerous  ocean ;  therefore,  sir,  inasmuch  as  her 
happiness  is  a  leading  motive  in  your  pursuits  in  life, 
you  will  m^ke  a  most  egregious  blunder  in  your  calcula- 
tions, even  provided  you  are  over  so  successful  in  your 
undertakings. 

The  feelings  of  Lysander  were  moved.  The  struggle 
in  his  own  breast  was  apparent  in  his  countenance.  He 
sat  in  silence  a  while,  then  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and 
retired  into  another  room.  Not  many  minutes  had  elaps- 
ed before  he  returned.  His  countenance  wore  a  more 
settled  aspect.  He  mentioned  his  weakness  with  some 
confusion.  He  said  he  was  ashamed  of  being  seen  in  tears, 
especially  on  such  an  occasion,  not  having  resolution  suf- 
ficient to  withstand  our  united  attacks.  "  But,"  said  he, 
''  the  business  is  fixed — the  die  is  cast — I  have  pledged 
my  faith— -I  have  given  my  word  to  procure  those  articles 
at  Springfield.  Not  only  myself,  but  more  than  a  dozen 
others,  are  now  waiting  for  me  to  fulfil  my  engagements. 
Shall  I,  of  all  others,  after  having  agreed  in  the  most  sol- 
emn manner,  to  yield  my  aid  in  the  prosecution  of  this  bu- 
siness, now  in  open  violation  of  faith,  retreat  and  leave  them 
in  suspense  ? 

I  feel  the  emotions  of  gratitude  towards  you,  Mr.  Bur- 
roughs, for  the  warmth  of  your  feelings  in  my  concerns  j 


92  MEMOIRS  OF 

but  this  truth  is  manifest  to  me,  that  the  enthusiasm  of 
your  feelings,  as  well  as  my  wife's,  does  not  give  you  an 
opportunity  of  rciisoning  coolly  and  candidly  upon  this 
subject.  Enough  has  been  said.  These  articles  must  be 
obtained ;  and  no  entreaties  shall  deter  me  from  paying 
attention  to  it.'* 

What  could  be  done  ?  What  more  could  be  said  ?  Ly- 
sander's  wife  I  saw  was  inconsolable.  What  would  you 
have  done,  had  you  been  in  my  situation  ?  Words  had 
now  become  entirely  out  of  the  question,  and  only  one 
thing  remained  to  be  done  ;  and  that  I  determined  to  do. 

I  told  Lysander  I  would  take  his  money  ;  go  to  Spring- 
field ;  purchase  all  the  articles ;  and  return  with  them 
immediately.  With  some  reluctance,  he  consented  ; 
gave  me  twenty  dollars  for  the  business ;  made  out  his 
account  of  the  articles  v/anted ;  and  directed  me  to  the 
apothecar)''s  shop,  to  which  I  must  apply  for  them.  At 
night,  I  left  them  with  ten  thousand  blessings  accompa- 
nying me. 

Riding  alone  through  the  dreary  night,  reflection  would 
make  me  a  visit.  The  scenes  through  which  I  had  pass- 
ed had  been  so  rapid,  and  filled  with  the  emotions  of  sen- 
sibility, to  that  degree,  as  to  leave  but  little  room  for  re- 
ilection. 

I  have  now,  said  I,  set  out  to  perform  that  business, 
which,  two  days  since,  I  do  not  believe  the  art  of  man  could 
have  persuaded  me  to.  It  is  a  new  undertaking  ;  but  I 
believe  not  attended  with  danger ;  for  the  money  is  exe- 
cuted so  well,  as  to  prevent  any  man  from  distinguishing 
it  from  standard  silver  ;  at  least,  it  looks  as  well  to  me  as 
any  money  ;  and  I  do  not  see  why  I  cannot  distinguish 
counterfeit  from  true  money,  as  well  as  others. 

I  think  my  motive  for  this  undertaking  is  founded  on 
the  principles  of  uprightness.  I  think  the  sentiment  of 
friendship  is  the  uppermost  object  in  this  undertaking. 
Possibly  a  species  of  vanity  might  have  some  induence  on 
■my  mind  ;  and  that  I  might  wish  to  shew  the  wife  of  Ly- 
sander  how  ready  I  was  to  undertake  such  a  desperate  bu- 
siness to  befriend  her ;  though,  in  reality,  the  danger  con- 
sisted chiefly  in  her  own  fancy. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  93 

What  would  be  the  consequence,  should  one  among  the 
ten  thousand  events,  which  daily  occur,  serve  to  reveal  the 
part,  which  I  am  now  about  to  act  ?  What  would  be  the 
opinion  of  people  concerning  me,  but  of  the  most  disagree- 
able kind,  after  having  passed  the  ordeal  of  Pelham  re- 
ports, founded  on  facts,  which,  to  the  world  at  large,  would 
appear  very  unfavorable  ?  They  would  undoubtedly  form 
their  opinion  from  ostensible  facts,  that  I  was  divested  of 
honesty,  uprightness  and  integrity.  And  even  should  I 
declare  to  the  world,  that  my  intentions  were  not  against 
the  good  of  society,  this  declaration  v/ould  fall  upon  the 
unbelievingheartsof  a  multitude,  prone  to  place  confidence 
in  an  evil  report,  and  difficult  in  giving  credit  to  that  which 
is  fiworablc. 

These  circumstances  would,  moreover,  be  attended 
with  the  following  disagreeable  events,  viz.  reports  of  ray 
raisfortunes,  or  crimes,  would  spread  and  probably  be  at- 
tended with  that  exaggeration,  of  which  reports  of  that 
kind  generally  partake,  and  reach  my  friends,  connexions 
and  enemies  ;  and  of  all  misfortunes,  that  which  gives  tri- 
umph to  an  enemy  is  the  most  keenly  felt.  My  friends 
would  mourn,  my  enemies  would  rejoice. 

A  view  of  these  disagreeable  events,  which  probably 
might  happen,  made  a  very  deep  impression  on  my  mind. 
I  was  almost  ready  to  faint  under  the  trial,  and  thought  to 
relinquish  my  undertaking.  But  again,  said  I,  should  I 
fail  upon  this  first  trial,  what  a  pitiful  appearance  should  I 
make  in  my  own  eyes  ?  I  set  out  on  this  expedition  with 
an  idea  that  my  friendship  would  carry  me  any  length.  I 
have  pledged  my  friendship  for  the  performance  of  this 
business  ;  and  shall  this  be  said  of  Burroughs,  that  in  fair 
weather  he  was  possessed  with  friendly  sentiments,  but 
the  moment  the  prospect  became  overcast  with  clouds, 
his  friendship  failed  ?  How  shall  it  be  known  whether  I 
really  possess  those  sentiments  of  benevolence,  of  which  I 
have  made  such  a  pompous  display,  otherwise  than  by 
standing  the  trial  in  time  of  adversity?  If  the  feelings  of 
Damon  and  Pythias  were  graduated  upon  that  scale  of 
cool  deliberation,  which  has  appeared  in  my  reasoning  up- 
on this  subject,  those  God-like  acts  of  benevolence,  to- 


G4  MEMOIRS  OF 

wards  each  other,  would  never  have  been  recorded  of 
them,  which  not  only  made  Dionysius  stand  m  mute  as- 
tonishment, but  left  a  memento  to  the  end  of  time,  to  what 
an  amazing  height  virtuous  friendship  may  arise. 

Contemplating  upon  matters,  in  this  point  of  view,  it 
gave  me  pain  to  think  that  I  had  even  hesitated  about  my 
.performing  the  engagements  which  I  had  entered  into.  I 
felt  a  degree  of  guiit,  which  I  wished  to  hide  from  my  own 
view  ;  it  produced  a  mortification  which  was  exceedingly 
painful;  therefore,  I  determined  in  my  own  mind,  never 
again  to  allow  myself  to  query  upon  the  propriety  of  my 
undertaking,  but  to  pursue  it  with  unremitting  attention, 
till  it  was  accomplished. 

About  1 1  o'clock,  A.  M.  I  arrived  at  Springfield  ;  made 
application  at  the  shop  where  I  was  directed  ;  told  the 
shop-keeper  my  demands  ;  and  received  from  him  the 
articles  according  to  the  bill.  I  delivered  him  his  money 
and  departed.  Stepping  into  the  printing-office,  across 
the  way,  to  do  some  business,  I  was  there,  in  a  few  min- 
utes, arrested  by  an  officer  of  justice.  The  business  at 
the  apothecary's  had  made  so  little  impression  on  my 
mind,  that  I  could  not  conceive  what  could  be  the  cause 
of  my  being  arrested,  at  the  time  when  the  officer  made 
me  a  prisoner.  He  informed  me  :  and  in  an  mstant,  the 
whole  view  of  my  desperate  situuion  opened  upon  me. 
I  vras  taken  before  justice  Pincheon,  who  treated  the  bu- 
siness with  a  great  degree  of  candor.  However,  a  compa- 
ny of  attornies'  clerks,  merchants'  clerks,  &c.  being  called 
together  by  this  event,  were  very  active  in  making  obser- 
vations against  me,  and  hundng  for  evidence,  for  fear  I 
should  not  be  committed  for  trial.  After  ali  circumstan- 
ces had  been  attended  to  with  care,  on  both  sides  of  the 
question,  and  the  justice  was  about  giving  his  final  decis-* 
ion  on  the  business,  a  part  of  the  beforementioned  clerks 
came  into  the  office,  hauling  after  them  a  man,  like  the 
Trojans,  when  they  had  found  the  Greek  Sinon,  vociferat- 
ing, "  here  is  a  man  who  knows  him !  here  is  a  man  who 
knows  him  !" 

When  the  stranger  was  introduced,  and  silence  prevail- 
ed, justice  Pincheon  asked  what  be  knew  concerning  mc  ^ 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  95 

The  answer  was,  "  that  I  wae  the  greatest  villain  in  the 
world  ;  had  come  to  Pel  ham  under  a  fictitious  name  ;  had 
there  preached,  when  I  was  unworthy  of  the  business  ; 
had  endeavored  to  kill  a  number  of  men  in  Pelham ;  had 
cheated  them  out  of  their  money,"  See 

This  man  you  will  readily  understandi  wasaPelhafnite. 
He  rode  post  from  Springfield  to  Pelham,  constantly  once 
a  week.  He  felt  all  the  prejudice  incident  to  that  people. 
He  gave  his  testimony  in  a  very  categorical  manner.  It 
was  now  determined  that  I  must  take  up  my  abode  in  jail, 
and  there  continue  till  the  session  of  the  Supreme  Court, 
when  I  should  take  my  trial  for  passing  counterfeit  mon- 
ey. I  was  accordingly  committed.  And  now,  sir,  I  be- 
lieve I  have  brought  your  patience  to  a  very  severe  trial, 
by  the  length  of  my  tedious  narrative  :  therefore  I  will 
leave  the  business  here  till  to-morrow ;  for  I  feel  almost 
sick  myself,  with  ruminating  upon  the  gloomy  scenes 
through  which  I  soon  passed  after  this. 


CHAP.  XIV 


-"  Love  of  gain 


"  Strikes  like  a  pestilence,  from  breast  to  breast ; 
*'  Riot,  pride,  perfidy,  blew  vapour's  breath ; 
"  And  inhumanity  is'  caught  from  mem." 

jljLS  the  apothecary  was  the  only  witness  against  me,  which 
could  be  produced  at  Court,  I  entertained  warm  expecta- 
tions of  being  acquitted  on  my  trial. 

In  the  state  of  Massachusetts,  many  inconveniences  had 
been  experienced  from  the  frequent  circulation  of  coun- 
terfeit money  ;  therefore,  the  governor  had  offered  a  re- 
ward of  twenty-five  pounds,  L.  M.  to  any  person,  who 
should  detect  another  in  making  or  passing  counterfeit 
money,  knowing  it  to  be  such.  Hence,  the  complainant 
becume  interested  in  the  issue  on  trial,  and  of  course,  ought 
to  be  excluded  from  giving  his  testimony. 

The  apothecary,  it  is  evident,  would  be  entitled  to  the 
reward  from  government,  the  moment  I  became  convict- 
/ 


96  MEMOIRS  OF 

ed  of  the  crime  for  which  I  remained  confined.  Hence, 
I  felt  confident  that  his  testimony  could  not,  according  to 
every  principle  of  justice,  and  would  not,  be  admitted. 

In  cases  where  not  more  than  one  dollar  is  in  dispute, 
this  regulation  is  invariably  and  sacredly  adhered  to,  viz. 
that  no  one  shall  be  admitted  a  witness  in  a  case,  wherein 
he  is  mediately,  or  immediately  concerned  ;  and  certainly, 
said  I,  where  character,  liberty,  and  property  are  all  at 
stake,  they  will  not  dare  to  deviate  from  this  rule  of  im- 
partiality. 

Those  who  would  plead  for  the  propriety  of  the  apothe- 
cary's being  admitted  a  witness  in  this  cause,  must  either 
deny  this  general  rule,  viz.  "  that  a  man  interested  in  a 
cause,  ought  to  be  excluded  from  bearing  testimony  in  that 
cause,"  or  else  the  being  entitled  to  twenty-five  pounds, 
in  case  of  my  conviction,  did  not  make  the  apothecary  in- 
terested in  the  case. 

Immediately  after  my  confinement,  a  number  of  specu- 
lating geniuses  resorted  to  me,  expecting  I  would  turn 
evidence  for  the  state,  and  involve  many  more  in  the  situ- 
ation to  which  I  was  reduced  :  they  therefore  were  anx- 
ious to  improve  this  time  of  harvest,  and  enrich  themselves 
from  the  bounty  of  government.  Hence,  they  offered 
me  their  exeitions  in  my  behalf,  and  moreover,  half  of 
the  reward  which  should  be  received,  in  case  of  the  con- 
viction of  others,  from  ^government. 

Had  these  speculators  known  with  what  contempt  I 
viewed  their  conduct,  they  might  have  saved  themselves 
some  considerable,  trouble.  To  speculate  in  human  wo, 
and  barely  for  the  sake  of  enriching  themselves,  reduce 
others  to  a  «tate  of  wretchedness  and  misery,  is  an  object 
so  detestable  as  to  excite  horror  in  every  feeling  breast. 
Had  their  real  motive  been  the  good  of  society,  their  ob- 
ject would  have  been  laudable  ;  but  it  was  a  matter  of  pub- 
lic notoriety,  that  Glazier  Wheeler  had  wrought  openly 
for  months  past  in  New-Salem  ;  but  these  heroes  took  no 
notice  of  him,  until  the  moment  it  was  known  that  a  re- 
ward was  to  be  obtained  for  prosecuting  money-makers  to 
conviction,  then  all  their  ardor  was  in  action  ;  aiid  tlrls  loo> 
for  the  benefit  of  government. 


.       STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  :. 

Those,  who  applied  to  me,  found  their  expectations  frus- 
trated ;  that  I  had  no  design  to  communicate  to  them  any 
knowledge  I  possessed  concerning  others  ;  therefore,  they 
turned  their  course  to  different  objects  ;  and  determined, 
since  I  would  not  further  their  designs,  that  I  should  suf- 
fer the  effects  of  popular  prejudice. 

The  printer,  in  Springfield,  inserted  a  paragraph  in  his 
weekly  publication,  not  calculated  to  fix  the  nxost  pleasing; 
idea  upon  the  minds  of  people  through  the  country,  viz. 
That  I  had  been  to  a  clergyman  under  pretence  of  coming 
from  a  mission  among  the  Indians,  and  being  poorly  cloth- 
ed, had  stated  to  the  clergyman,  that  my  clothes  had  been 
worn  out  during  my  continuance  am.ong  them.  That  the 
clergyman  had  invited  me  to  preach,  and  in  order  to  my 
appearing  in  character,  offered  me  a  suit  of  clothes  ;  that 
I  had  accepted  the  offer ;  and  in  order  to  prepare  myself 
for  the  exercises  of  the  next  day,  had  retiied  into  his  study, 
begging  the  favor  of  his  watch,  to  know  how  long  I  might 
allow  myself  to  study  previous  to  retiring  to  rest.  That 
after  the  clergyman  and  his  fiwnily  had  retii*ed  to  rest,  I 
had  silently  left  the  house  ;  carrying  with  me  at  the  same 
time,  watch,  clothes,  &c.  And  leaving  this  text,  written 
on  paper,  folded  as  for  a  sermon :  "  you  shall  seek  me 
early,  but  shall  not  find  me." 

These  matters  were  all  calculutcd  to  fix  an  invincible 
prejudice  against  me,  in  the  minds  of  those  people  by 
whom  I  must  ultimately  be  tried  ;  and  consequently  de- 
prived me  of  that  favor  which  every  person  ought  to  have, 
upon  a  matter  of  such  infinite  consequence  to  his  pros- 
perity in  life.  I  saw  the3e  matters,  and  what  would  be 
the  probable  event. 

I  expected  application  would  be  made  to  me«  for  a  dis- 
covery of  my  confederate,  or  confederates,  at  the  session 
of  the  Supreme  Court;  and  therfeore,  ought  to  form 
some  system  in  my  own  mind,  to  rcgul.  ;e  -ny  conduct: 
upon  such  an  occasion.  I  ought  either  to  discover  the 
person  of  whom  I  received  the  mo::cy^  and  for  »vhom  I 
had  acted  in  passing  it,  or  else  I  ought  "io  exonerate  him 
entirely  from  crimination,  or  even  suspicio'.. ,  and  in  or- 
der to  weigh  tiiese  matters  in  the  balance  oi"  justice.  :' 
I 


i  3  MEMOIRS  OF 

■  ill  naturally  arise  into  view,  wiiat  is  his  situation,  con- 
trasted with  my  situation  and  circumstances  ?  The  con- 
nexions which  have  existed  between  us,  and  our  views  and 
expectations  under  that  connexion  ? 

True  it  is,  that  this  act  was  performed  solely  for  his  ad- 
vantage, not  having  my  own  emolument  in  view,  either 
directly  or,  indirectly  ;  therefore,  ought  he  not  to  suffer 
the  consequence  of  this  business  ?  Moreover,  his  charac- 
ter stands  as  fair  in  this  county,  as  any  man's  wl>atever  ; 
and  of  consequence,  he  would  siand  a  better  chance  on 
trial,  in  the  prejudices  of  people,  than  I  should.  He  is 
likewise  a  man  of  property,  and  can  of  consequence,  make 
arrangements  for  assistance,  by  counsel  and  friends,  which 
I  cannot  expect ;  and  even  should  he  be  convicted, '  the 
exertions  of  government  may  be  nfiore  mild  towards  hira, 
than  they  v/ouid  towards  me  ;  for  judges  are  but  men, 
and  are  subject  to  like  passions  and  prejudices,  with  oth- 
er men  ;  and  it  is  not  impossible,  but  that  they  may  feel 
-^he  operation  of  prejudice  in  a  trial  respecting  me,  as  well 
C'S  others,  which  I  daily  seef.re  governed  by  it. 

These  were  t^e  arguments  in  favor  of  my  making  a 
discovery  of  the  person  from  whom  I  had  received  the 
money.  The  arguments  on  the  other  side  were,  that  Ly- 
biander,  it  is  true,  has  a  character,  property,  &c.  to  lose, 
and  which  he  moreover  must  lose,  in  a  great  measure, 
should  he  be  subjected  to  trial.  He  has  aTamily,  a  de- 
scription of  which  I  have  already  given  you,  which  must 
share  his  fortune  in  the  v/orld ;  therefore  his  ruin  must 
bring  ruin  likewise  on  his  family.  A  wife,  possessed  of 
every  tender  feeling,  must  suffer  more  than  is  possible 
for  a  m.tn  to  puffer,  who  is  calculated  by  nature,  to  endure 
the  robuat  toils  of  pain  and  hardship  ;  .and  as  she  must 
sufler  with  her  husband,  in  feelings,  at  least,  it  will  be  in- 
volving two  in  misery,  as  great  as  what  I  can  endure, 
should  I  reveal  this  business  respecting  Lysander. 

It  will  likewise  involve  those  who  are  perfectly  inno- 
cent, in  difnculty,  as  well,  as  the  guilty,  viz.  Lysander's 
wife  and  children  ;  therefore,  whether  will  it  be  better  to 
meet  the  impending  storm  alone  and  unsupported,  or  else 
to  exculpate  myself,  by  throwing  the  sume-burthen  upon 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  Oj 

dx  others,  and  all  of  them  entirely  innocent:  excepting 
one  ?  Moreover,  why  did  I  undertake  this  business,  un- 
less it  was  to  hazard  the  danger  myself,  which  attended 
this  imdertaking  ?  I  am  determined.  The  arguments 
are  more  against  me  than  they  are  for  me,  and  I  must 
stand  the  power  of  this  storm,  thick  and  fast  gathering 
over  my  head. 

Happy  was  it  for  me,  that  I  was  ignorant  at  that  time 
of  the  dreadful  trials  and  miseries  which  I  had  to  encoun- 
ter, before  I  was  released  from  a  state  of  confinement  ; 
otherwise,  my  courage  must  have  sunk  ;  my  resolution 
must  have  failed. 

My  blood,  at  this  distant  period  of  time,  runs  cold,  at 
taking  a  retrospective  view  of  those  scenes.  Since  I  have 
been  writing  this  narrative,  necessity  has  compelled  me 
to  have  recourse  to  minutes,  which  brought  those  scenes 
into  view,  which  have  been  a  great  tax  on  my  tranquillily. 
I  cannot  now  close  my  eyes  in  sleep,  without  being  called 
to  act  these  things  over  again  in  imagination.  I  start 
from  sleep  often,  sweating  with  agony  of  mind,  under  the 
apprehensions  which  those  images  present  to  my  view.* 

My  determination  being  fixed,  I  laid  my  account  to  con- 
duct accordingly.  Many  people  visited  me  daily,  out  of 
curiosity,  to  see  a  character  entirely  new  ;  the  public  be- 
ing fully  possessed  with  the  belief,  that  I  had  absolutely 
stolen  a  v.'atdi  and  suit  of  clothes  from  a  clergyman,  and 
had  left  him  the  text  before  mentioned  ;  and  all  I  could 
say  or  do,  had  no  influence  to  make  them  believe  to  the 
contrary. 

Some  said  this  clergyman  was  Dr.  Huntington  of  Cov- 
entry, and  some  said  it  was  Mr.  Trumbull,  of  North-Ha- 
ven ;  but  those  two  gentlemen  denying  any  such  titmsac- 
tion  tow5ft'ds  them,  said  the  matter  was  a  fact,  but  who  the 
clergyman  v/as  was  unknown  It  appeared  that  the  world 
were  determined  not  to  give  up  any  unfavorable  idea  which 
had  once  been  broached  concerning  me,  let  it  be  ever  so 

*  These  observations  the  ^^-^iter  of  this  note  has  oftfrn  heard 
Burroughs  repeat  with  emotion,  even  since  writing  his  seco'^-l 
voiume.  How  then  is  it  possible  he  could  have  again  phmg^d  him- 
seitheadiong,  and  v>'ith  his  eyes  open,  into  the  same  guh"  of  misery ! 


100  ::,IEMOIRS  OF 

unfounded  or  improbable.  Therefore  their  ears  wei^ 
open  to  croy  lireatU  of  slander  which  was  puffed  ac^uinst 
me.  My  visitants  would  often  look  at  me,  when  relating 
matters  of  lUcU  with  an  arch  significance,  declarative  of 
their  knowinj^  the  bottom  of  the  business,  notwithstanding 
all  my  plausible  declarations.  I  do  believe,  if  I  had  set 
cut  with  T^iirmth,  to  prove  to  the  world  that  I  was  a  man, 
and  not  a  woman,  that  a  great  number,  from  that  circum- 
stance, would  have  been  able  at  once  to  look  through  the 
deception  w^hich  I  was  endeavoring  to  lay  them  under,  and 
known  for  certainty  that  I  was,  in  reality,  a  woman  ;  so 
strong  WTiS  the  desire  of  mankind,  at  that  day,  to  elude  my 
deceptions,  which  they  thought  I  was  master  of,  to  the 
utmost  degree. 

In  thb  iiluction,  you  will  readily  conceive  it  could  hard- 
Iv  be  expected  that  I  should  run  clear  of  a  verdict  against 
ri.c,  let  the  probi  be  ever  so  inadequate  ;  for  the  wisest  and 
;  ;crt  considerate  of  men  will  be  influenced  in  their  rea- 
:.::jir}5S  by  those  popular  clamors,  more  or  less;  and  they 
L^».>jt  avoid  it,  so  liable  is  human  nature  to  err  in  the  de- 
vious path  of  life. 

The  speculators  in  government  bounties  had  now  taken 
Glazier  Wheeler,  w*ho  was  likewise  committed  for  trial. 
This  man  you  will  likely  have  a  curiosity  to  be  made  more 
'minutely  acquainted  v>dth,  as  he  will  make  somewhat  of  a 
figure  in  this  narrative.  He  was  a  man  tottering  under 
the  weight  of  years,  having  long  since,  to  all  appearance, 
been  a  presumpiive  candidate  for  the  grave.  He  was  a 
man  of  small  mental  abilities,  but  patient  and  persevering 
in  any  manual  pursuit,  to  admiration.  Credulous  in  the 
extreme,  which  subjected  him  lo  the  duplicity  of  many 
who  had  resorted  to  him  for  his  work  :  inoffensive  and 
harmless  in  his  manners,  simple  in  his  external  appear- 
ance, and  weak  in  his  observations  on  m.en  and  manners. 
He  had  spent  all  his  days  in  pursuit  of  the  knowledge  of 
counterfeiting  silver,  so  as  to  bear  the  test  of  essays.  He 
had  always  been  unfortunate,  and  always  lived  poor. 
•  This  was  the  man  concerning  whom  the  world  had  said 
so  much,  and  who  was  to  take  his  trial  at  the  same  time 
with  me.     One  other,  by  the  name  of  Jones,  was  likewise 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  101 

committed,  either  for  counterfeiting  or  passing  counterfeit 
money,  -which  I  do  not  recollect.  Likewise  one  by  the 
name  of  Cook  was  in  co'^nement,  to  take  his  trial  for  bur- 
glary. These  were  the  men  who  waited  for  the  approach 
of  the  court  with  fearful  apprehensions  of  the  event. 

Many  circumstances  had  taken  place*  whilst  I  lay  con- 
fined here,  which  served  to  give  me  a  pretty  sanguine  de- 
pendance  on  my  own  abilities.  I  had  written  a  scrawl  of 
^ribaldry,  and  intitled  it  "  the  Hay-Mow  Sermon,"  repre- 
senting my  exploits  in  Pelham,  at  Rutland,  kc.  and  deliv- 
ered this  often  to  those  who  came  to  see  rae  as  a  phenome- 
non. I  found  Aiany  applauded  this  as  a  witty  thing,  until 
I-  finally  began  to  think  it  so  myself.  The  fiattery  of  those 
who  were  willing  to  alleviate  the  miseries  of  my  situation, 
by  making  me  at  peace  with  myself,  had  such  an  opera- 
ation  on  my  mind,  that  I  seriously  began  to  think  myself  a 
man  d^some  consequence,  and  was  determined  to  let  this 
circumstance  be  fully  known  at  court,  when  I  should  have 
an  opportunity  of  displaying  all  my  abilities  in  such  a  con- 
spicuous manner  as  to  create  admiration  in  the  minds  of 
all. 

This  was  the  state  of  things  when  I  was  called  to  the 
bar,  and  my  indictment  read.  The  judges  on  the  bench, 
at  this  time,  if  I  remember  right,  were«Mfessrs.  Gushing, 
Sargent,  Sumner  and  Dana.  The  attorney-general  was 
Robert  Treat  Paine,  of  whom  you  have  heard  much  men- 
tion made  :  yet.  sir,  as  this  is  so  extraordinary  a  character 
in  the  department  of  our  jurisprudence',  I  will  give  it  you 
more  particularly  in  this  narration.      *      *      *     *     *     # 

*  *  **3^5it';3t  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  **  *  >• 

**,*******#**#  ^tt  *  *•  ;i- 

In  the  indictment,  I  was"^  charged  with  passing  tV:'o 
pieces  of  base  metal,  the  counterfeit  of  Spanish  milled 
• tf — ■  —1 

*  Mr.  Editor — As  Judg-e  Paine  sustains  a  station  of  importance 
in  the  judicial  department  in  Massacliusetts,  I  wish  to  cast  a  veil 
of  candor  over  his  foibles,  and  suppress  v/hatever  may  tend-to  in- 
jure him  in  the  minds  of  the  public,  in  this  narrative,'  wiuch  v/ar. 
given  to  a  friend  ;  it  being  essentially  necessaiy  to  support  a  due 
degree  of  respect  towards  those  who  remain  in  ctices  of  emiiiencc', 
ill  ord^r  to  enable  them  to  execute  their  duty  t«  the  benefit  of  societ ' 
I  2 


lOi  MEMOIRS  OF 

dollars,  knowing  them  to  be  such,  kc.  To  the  indictment 
I  plead  not  guilty.  I  had  no  counsel  at  this  time,  owing 
to  the  folloTving  reason,  viz.  When  I  was  first  commit- 
ted to  confinement,  I  expected  to  be  in  want  of  more  mo- 
ney than  %vhat  I  had  on  hand,  for  expenses  in  jail,  attor- 
ney's fees  at  triaK  Sec.  Therefore,  I  sold  my  horse,  sad- 
dle and  bridle,  and  had  a  promise  of  the  money  in  ten  days, 
but  to  my  no  sm.r.ll  disappointment,  have  not  received  my 
pay  to  this  day :  of  course,  at  the  time  of  trial,  was  entire- 
ly destitute  of  money. 

Being  wholly  unacquainted  with  the  practice  of  the  gen- 
tlemen of  the  bar  at  that  time,  I  had  embraced  the  opinion 
that  they  never  would  attend  to  the  application  of  any, 
without  an  advanced  fee.  This  idea  I  afterwards  found  to 
be  entirely  groundless.  Under  this  apprehension,  I  ap- 
plied for  no  help,  having  no  money  to  remunerate  a  coun- 
rellor  for  his  assistance.  This  being  the  case,  1  stood 
alone  in  the  business,  which  communicated  an  idea  to  tlie 
gcntlem.en  of  the  bar,  that  a  confidence  in  my  own  abili- 
ties induced  me  to  look  with  indifference  on  their  assist- 
c.nce.  This,  of  consequence,  did  not  serve  to  ingratiate 
myself  into  their  favor.  This  was  not  all.  In  my  address 
totbojury  I  flung  out  some  hard  expressions  against  them, 
owing  to  my  mistaken  idea  of  their  venal  practice ;  all 
which  served  to  create  myself  enemies,  without  the  least 
t.pparent  advantage  arising  from  it. 

I  have  often  thought  that  a  jetrospective  view  of  a  thou- 
sand foolish  calculations  which  people  make  in  the  days 
of  youthful  inexperrience,  and  the  thoughtless  unmeaning 
impetuosity,  with  which  they  pursue  these  objects  of  cal- 
culation, would  serve  greatly  to  lessen  the  resentment 
which  the  wiser  part  of  mankind  often  feel  towards  them. 

After  I  had  plead  to  the  indictment,  the  attorney-gene- 
ral arose  and  opened  the  cause  to  the  jury,  stating  in  the 
course  of  his  observations,  that  I  had  been  a  most  abandon- 
ed character,  leading  a  life.of  iniquity  from  the  beginning  ; 
that  I  had  been  a  counterfeiter  not  only  of  the  coin  of  tb€ 
country,  but  had  likewise  counterfeited  a  name,  a  charac- 
ter, a  calling  :  all  which  seemed  to  communicate  this  idea 
to  the  woridj  that  I  had  given  a  hose  to  the  practice   cf 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  lOS 

every  enormity  ;  that  my  wickedness  had  at  length  found 
me  out ;  and  that  I  should  now  suffer  a  punishment  due 
to  my  long  course  of  crimes. 

After  he  had  closed,  he  proceeded  to  call  on  his  evi- 
dences. When  the  Apothecary  came  on  to  the  stand,  I 
objected  to  the  court,  againt  his  being  admitted,  being  a 
person  interested  in  the  business.  After  hearing  the  ar- 
.  guments  pro.  and  con.  the  bench  took  the  matter  under 
consideration,  and  determined  that  hia  evidence  might  be 
taken  ;  giving  for  reasop,  that  it  had  before  been  deter- 
mined ;  and  that  the  reward  which  government  had  of- 
fered, would  militate  against  the  conviction  of  crimes  of 
that  nature,  rather  than  promote  it,  if  the  complainant 
should  be  exchided  from  giving  testimony. 

As  soon  as  this  determination  of  the  court  was  declar- 
ed, I  pretty  much  gave  up  the  idea  of  being  acquitted. 
However,  1  thought  it  necessary  to  make  the  last  defence 
I  was  able  to;  therefore,  after  the  witnesses  were  exam- 
ined, I  began  my  address  to  the  jury,  and  in  the  course  of 
my  observations,  took  notice  of  the  remarks  of  the  attor- 
ney-general ;  that  he  had,  contrary  to  every  principle  of 
Jaw  and  justice,  asserted  facts,  in  open  court,  apparently 
with  a  wicked  design,  to  fix  prejudice  in  theii'  minds, 
in  order  to  prevent  my  trialbemg  impartial,  not  even  at- 
tempting to  produce  evidence  to  support  the  base  asseo^ 
tions  which  he  had  made. 

I  continued  still  further :  I  am  astonished,  said  I,  to 
see  all  justice  and  virtue  fled  from  the  bench.  That  those 
characters  whom  we  are  taught  to  revere,  on  account  of 
their  eminent  station,  should  so  far  debase  their  own  im- 
portance, as  to  remain  in  silence,  when  the  most  flagrant 
violations  of  all  rules  of  order  are  perpetrated  before  them 
in  open  court  :  therefore,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  I  turn 
to  you  as  the  only  support,  which  now  may  be  depended 
•  on,  for  the  enjoyment  of  our  just  rights  and  privileges. 

And  nov^,  sir,  what  do  you  think  of  this  rant  ?  I  know 
what  you  will  say,  viz.  that  it  was  tlie  ebullition  of  a  mad, 
hair-brained  fellow.  My  feelings,  it  is  true,  were  wound- 
ed by  the  observations  of  the  attoi"ney-gene<^l,  and  I  verilf 
expected  to. punish  all  those  whom  I  thought  to  blame  in 


i»^ 


no4  MEMOIRS  OF*' 

ith^iwMhess ;  but  how  weak  was  my  reasoning  upon  such 
'•a  su^ect  I  How  mad  the  part  which  I  acted  !  I  soon  found 
49  iWy  cost,  that  in  the  room  of  punishing  others,  I  was 
irritating  that  power  in  v/hose  grasp  I  was  embraced, 

I  continued  my  remarks  to  titiL  fiiry,  upon  the  evidence 
which  had  been  exhibited  against  me,  with  as  much  argu- 
ment as  the  case  would -admit  of.  The  attornej'-general 
answered  my  remari^,  and  the  judges  summed  up  the 
evidence,  and  stated  the  business  to  the  jury,  not  in  a  very 
partial  map^e;-.;  "The  jury  retir^,  and  in  about  one  hour 
retyi^eid  w'iTih  the-  verdict  of  GUILTY !  < 
•  ;^*I*h'e  sentence  was  soon  pronounced,  which  was  to  this 
effect,  viz.  that  I  should  stand  one  hour  in  the  pillory,  and 
remain  thre^  years  confined  to  the  house  of  correction, 
without  the  corporal  punishment  which  generally  is  in^? 
flicted  on  those  who  are  sentenced  to  said  house.  Gla- 
zier Wheeler's  sentence  was  the  same,  excepting  an  ad- 
dition of  twenty^  stripes,  and  to  be  Cropt.  Jones  was  sen- 
t^n^ecf -fe)^  two.-yefars  to  the  house  of  correction,  and  twenty 
stripes.  .Cook,  for  burglary,  was  sentenced  for  two  years 
to  the  house  of  correction,  an  hour  in  the  pillory,  and  ten 
stripes. 

I  was  remanded  to  jaU^here  to  contemplate  the  gloomy 
prospect  before  ,  me,  offending  three  years  in  a  state  pf 
close  confinement.  I  expected  this  state  of  imprison- 
ment would  be  in  the  common  jail  of  the  county,  therp 
being  no  other  house  of  correction  provided.  Here  the 
horrors  of  my  situation  began  to  open  to  my  view  i  I  saw 
an  eternity  in  miniature  before  me,  consisting  of  one  con- 
tinued scene  of  gloomy  horrors.  Shut  from  the  enjoy- 
ment of  society,  from  performing  a  part  among  the  rest 
of  my  fellow  piortals,  to  make  some  establishment  for  my- 
self, in  this  state  of  dependance  ;  and  from  tasting  the 
sweets  of  liberty,  for  vv^hich  we  had  so  lately  fought  and 
bled. 

How  is  this,  said  I  to  myself,  that  a  country  which  has 
stood  the  foremost  in  asserting  the  cause  of  liberty,  that 
those  who  have  tasted  the  bitter  cup  of  slavery,  and  have 
known  from  hence  the  value  of  liberty,  should  so  soon  af- 
ter obtaining  that  blessing  themselves;  deprive '•©ihers  of 


STEPHEN  BU=RROUGHS,  105 

it  ?  I  know  that  it  will  be  said,  that,  for  my  crimes  I  am 
deprived  of  liberty,  whicli  is  accoi'ding  to  every  dictate  of 
justice  ;  whereas  America  was  only  struggling  for  her 
natural  rights,  when  exercising  the  principles  of  virtue. 

I  have  no  idea  of  calling  in  question  the  justice  of  the 
American  cause,  but  only  advert  to  the  situation  and  feel- 
ings of  the  people  in  this  state,  to  shew  that  they  feeling- 
ly knew  the  value  of  liberty  ;  and  therefore,  it  appears 
more  strange  that  they  should  wantonly  trifle  with  this 
valuable  treasure.  It  has  been  abundantly  said  by  the 
leading  men  in  this  state,  that  life  Avithout  liberty  is  not 
worth  the  possessing.  This  was  abundantly  urged  to  the" 
people  in  time  of  the  war ;  and  it  was  urged  with  great 
truth  and  propriety  ;  therefore,  that  the  same  characters, 
upon  a  revision  of  the  criminal  code,  with  a  pretence  of 
mollifying  those  laws  wliich  were  sanguinary  and  cruel, 
should  substitute  slavery  for  death,  is  to  me,  conduct  truly 
enigmatical. 

As  this  narrative  will  not  admit  of  entering  into  a  politi- 
cal disquisilion  of  the  subject,  I  shall  content  myself  with 
barely  stating  facts,  which  have  abundantly  come  to  my 
knowledge,  from  seeing  the  operation  of  this  system  of 
servitude  upon  men.  These  facts  I  shall  relate  from 
time  to  time,  as  they  naturally  connect  with  the  narrative  ; 
and  I  presume,  sir,  you  will  think  w^th  me,  that  political 
reasoning  strongly  marked  this  legislative  act. 


CHAP.  XV. 

"  Deluge  and  conflagration,  dreadful  poWers  ! 
*'  Prime  Ministers  of  vengeance  !  chain'd  in  caves 
"  Distinct,  apart  the  giant  furies  roar ; 
**  Apart ;  or  such  their  hon-id  rage  for  ruin, 
*'  In  mutual  conflict  would  they  rise,  and  wage 
*•  Eternal  war,  tiU  one  was  quite  (icAoured." 


T. 


HE  evening  after  my  sentence,  the  prisoners  in  the 
room  adjoining  were  endeavoring  to  make  their  escape. 
Their  attempt  was  overheard  by  the  jailor,  who  came  into 
the  room  where  I  was,  about  12  o'clock  at  fiight,  with  the 


106  MEMOIRS  OF 

high  sheriff,  who,  with  his  drawn  sword,  threatened  to  put 
me  to  instant  death  for  making  the  attempt  to  break  jail. 
The  cold  contempt  with  which  I  treated  his  threats  stung 
him  to  the  quick ;  he  lowered  on  me  with  an  eye  of  ma- 
Ugnancy.  He  cried,  "  ah  ha  !  Burroughs,  you  are  in  my 
power,,  and  I'll  make  you  know  it  before  I  have  done  with 
you.'*  He  by  this  time  had  learned  his  mistake,  by  hear- 
ing the  prisoners  in  the  other  room  crawling  out  of  the 
holje  which  they  had  made.  This  circumstance  serves  to 
shew  the  prejudice  which  the  high  sheriff  had  conceived 
against  me,  by  his  concluding,  without  the  least  evidence, 
that  I  was  making  an  attempt  to  break  jail ;  however,  this 
I  found  was  a  pretty  general  opinion  among  people  at  this 
time,  that  I  must  be  conversant  in  every  species  of  out- 
rage which  was  going  forward,  and  consequently,  when 
any  thing  of  that  nature  was  known  to  be  on  foot,  they 
were  very  confident  of  my  being  interested  in  it. 

It  was  thought  that  the  jail  in  Springfield  was  insuffici- 
ent to  hold  me .  securely,  and  therefore  concluded  to  re- 
move me  to  the  jail  in  Northampton,  another  half-shire 
town  in  this  county  ;  they  accordingly  put  this  determina- 
tion in-execution,  removing  all  the  prisoners  at  the  same 
time.  I  was  confined  with  a  large  chain  around  my  legs, 
secured  in  the  most  critical  manner,  and  then  bound  fast 
to  the  waggon  in  which  I  was  transported,  it  being  twenty 
-miles  between  the  two  places  In  this  situation,  carried 
through  the  country  as  a  spectacle  to  the  inhabitants,  I 
will  not  attempt  to  describe  to  you  my  feelings,  because  I 
know  the  attempt  will  be  in  vain.  There  is  a  language  of 
the  hear:  which  we  cannot  express,  it  so  far  exceeds  the 
descriptive  powers  of  speech  ;  yet,  by  comparing  our  own 
feelings  in  different  situations,  we  may  give  the  nearest 
guess  what  oiir  feelings  would  be  under  other  circum-. 
stances  ;  and  hence  by  this  rule  only,  can  you  judge  of  my 
sensations* upon  this  voyage  to  Northampton. 

It  was  on  Sunday  when  we  were  carried  through  the 
counCry,  on  our  journey  to  Northampton  ;  and  in  the  room 
of  attending  the  usual  solemnities  of  the  day,  people 
thronged  the  roads  to  see  this  procession.  When  we  pas- 
Bed,  the  people  would  inquire  mtb  eageraessj  who  w^s  the 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  107 

minister,  being  kno^vn  inore  by  that  appellation  than  I  was 
by  my  ovm  name.  When  the  minister  was  pointed  out  ta 
them,  some  would  shout  with  joy,  considering  that  I  was 
now  detet  ted,  notwithstanding  that  amazing  fund  of  subtilty 
which  I  could  use  when  I  had  occasion.  Theii*  ideas  of 
their  own  judiciary  became  highly  exalted  in  their  opinion; 
for,  said  they,  "  this  man  has  been  all  over  the  world,  pljiy- 
ing  pranks  in  all  countries,  but  could  never  be  brought  to 
justice,  owing  to  his  amazing  subtilty.  Until  he  came 
among  us,  and  we  have  shewed  him  what  is  what :  he  finds 
by  this  time,  that  we  are  not  such  fools  as  he  thought  for." 
Some  examined  my  looks  with  great  attention,  Jo  see  if 
they  could  distinguish  where  that  depth  of  knowledge  lay 
which  had  set  the  world  in  an  uproar.  Some  few  dropped 
the  sympathetic  tear  over  our  wretched  state,  apparently 
sensible  that  we  belonged  to  the  same  human  family  with 
themselves,  and  were  capable  of  suffering  equally  with 
others.       •   > 

About  sunset  we  arrived  at  Northampton,  and  were  con- 
signed to  the  abodes  of  misery.  The  ponderous  doors 
growled  on  their  rfiluctant  hinges  !  The  rattling  of  bolts, 
bars  and  locks,  reverberating  through  the  hollow  apart- 
ments of  this  dreary  abode,  made  such  an  impression  on 
my  mind,  that  with  difficulty  I  supported  myself  under  this 
situation.  The  appearance  of  the  Cerberus  6f  these  in- 
fernal abodes  was  equal  to  every  poetic  description  of  ihe 
Janitor  of  hell.^  Hail,  ye  infernal  powers  !  said  I,  who  in- 
habit these  regions  ;  assemble  your  forces,  gather  your 
strength,  and  keep  high  carnival  to-day,  in  consideration  of 
those  victims  which  have  now  fallen  a  sacrifice  at  your 
shrine. 

I  was  confined  in  a  room  on  the  ground  floor  alone,  and 
shut  out  from  the  possibility  of  seeing  any  company.  This 
was  a  situation  which  left  me  to  the  corroding  pangs  of 
thought.  However,  these  thoughts  were,  in  the  end,  cal- 
culated to  fortify  me  against  impending  troubles.  I  re- 
flected on  my  imprudence  at  the  time  of  trial ;  on  the  des- 
perate voyage  I  had  undertaken  for  the  sake  of  befriend- 
ing others ;  on  the  consummate  folly  in  our  plans  for 
wealth  ;  and  upon  the  three  years'  siege  I  must  no>^un- 


108  MEMOIRS  OF 

dertake  a"gainst  the  walls  of  a  prison.  But,  said  I,  wluit 
does  it  signify  to  complain ?  The  die  is  cast;  my  fate  is 
fixed  ;  and  at  the  close  of  three  years,  what  will  it  matter, 
whether  I  have  lived  in  affluence,  or  been  confined  in  a 
dungeon  ?  Does  it  now  militate  against  my  happiness  to 
think  that  yesterday  or  last  week  I  was  in  a  disagreeable 
situation?  ,The  present  and  future  are  the  only  times  for 
enjoyment.  The  present  blessings  we  have  in  our  power, 
and  consequently,  can  partake  of  every  joy  they  grant :  the 
future  we  possess  by  anticipation  ;  and  it  is  thought  by 
many,  that  the  foretaste  of  pleasure  by  anticipation,  is 
greater  than  the  participation.  At  any  rate,  happiness  is 
the  pursuit  of  all,  and  it  is  evident  that  the  nearer  we  can 
approach  to  a  state  of  content,  by  the  same  proportion  we 
approach  to  that  happiness  which  we  are  in  pursuit  after ; 
of  consequence,  the  dictates  of  wisdom  will  induce  me  to 
throw  aside  care  and  trouble,  let  my  present  situation  be 
ever  so  disagreeable. 

Not  long  after  I  was  confined  in  this  jail,  there  was  a 
man  by  the  name  of  Rood  put  into  the  same  room  with  me. 
This  man  had  held  a  commissitwi  in  the  military  depart- 
ment of  Massachusetts,  and  was  an  inhabitant  of  a  neigh- 
boring town ;  had  a  family  consisting  of  a.  wife  and  one 
daughter,  a  young  woman  in  the  bloom  of  life,  and  a  pret- 
ty handsome  figure.  This  man,  by  mistake,  having  taken 
some  cattle  not  his  own,  and  appropriated  them  to  his  own 
use,  some  people  were  so  impolite  as  to  charge  him  with 
theft.  This  charge  was  carried  before  the  supi^me  court, 
and  there  he  was  fined  about  seventy  pounds,  if  I  mistake 
not.  As  the  circumstances  of  this  Rood  were  somewhat 
embarrassed,  he  could  not  pay  the  fine  which  the  court 
had  laid  upon  him  ;  therefore,  the  pi'ospect  was,  that  he 
must  lie  in  jail  a  long  time  ;  until  he  should  be  able  to  pay 
his  fine,  and  this  he  had  no  apparent  chance  for  doing.  This 
man  had  a  genius  somewhat  singular.  His  stature  was 
about  six  feet.  He  had  an  upright  bold  look  ;  possessing 
a  small  share  of  learning.  He  was  fond  of  using  far-fetch- 
ed and  hard  sentences,  in  order  to  appear  like  a  man  of 
letters.  He  was  very  fond  of  using  high  sounding  words, 
and  had  a  most  singular  talent  of  palming  himself  upon 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  10'^ 

tlie  vulgar  for  a  man  of  real  information.  He  was  cun- 
ning, but  not  politic,  sociable  and  amusing,  but  not  edify- 
ing. Finding  himself  in  ibis  embarrassed  situation,  lieuten- 
ant Rood  determined  to  oUricate  himself  by  any  means 
•which  he  should  find  in  his  power.  As  he  was  not  pos- 
sessed with  those  delicate  feelings  of  uprightness,  which 
would  subject  him  to  a  hurtful  system  of  honesty,  he  de- 
termined to  have  recourse  to  any  measure  which  would 
answer  his  purpose. 

We  were  soon  joined  by  another,  wlio  w^as  committed 
by  the  name  of  Warner  ;  but  I  believe  his  real  name  prov- 
ed to  be  Hutchins.  This  man  was  apprehended  for  pass- 
ing counterfeit  bank  bills,  <md  committed  for  trial,  at  the 
next  court  of  quarter  sessions,  to  be  holdeu  in  the  March 
following.  This  man  was  wholly  destitute  of  literary 
knowledge,  and  also  unacquainted  with  men  and  manners. 
He  was  simple,  and  destitute  of  intrigue,  but  possessed  an 
inviolable  attachment  to  secrecy,  when  any  tiling  of  that 
nature  was  committed  to  him.  Ke  had  a  great  share  of 
enterprize,  but  M^as  wholly  destitute  of  system.  Under 
these  circumstances,  I  found  many  designing  characters 
had  made  use  of  him  as  a  tool  to  effect  their  |iefa  >.us  pur- 
poses. **""  ^  '  ^ 

Having  this  company,  that  eternal  series  of  enn^i,  which 
had  hung  like  a  leaden  mountain  upon  me,  was  now  in 
some  measure  removed.  The  privilege  of  conversation 
was  iK)w  restored,  and  amusement  in  some  measure  occu- 
pied our  minds.  When  I  have  been  debarred  the  privi- 
lege of  seeing  and  conversing  with  crthers,  the  bare  sight 
of  a  man  has  involuntarily  and  unaccounfibly  raised  a  sen- 
sation of  joy  in  my  mind  greater  than  you  can  easily  con- 
ceive, even  when  I  had  not  a  possibility  of  speaking  to  him. 
This,  I  think,  is  a  sti^ong  evidence  that  we  are  all  descend- 
ed from  one  common  origin,  and  that  a  certain  ^tiraction 
of  cohesion  operates  upon  the  human  race,. and  will  so  con- 
tinue till  we  all  return  to  that  fountain  from  whence  we 
originated,  and  form  an  union  as  perfect  as  is  formed  be- 
tweeq  the  river  and  the  ocean  when  their  waters  becomo 
one. 

K 


1 10  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  scanty  allowance  of  provision  which  we  received 
at  this  place,  made  us  feel  severely  the  pains  of  hunger. 
Those  who  had  friends  near  them,  commonly  received  an 
additional  supply  from  them  ;  but  those  who  had  only  what 
our  keeper  allowed  us,  to  supply  the  calls  of  nature,  often 
felt  the  griping  hand  of  hunger,  in  addition  to  other  in- 
conveniences. All  these  circumstances  made  me  feel  an 
inconceivable  uneasiness  at  my  confinement.  I  would  walk 
backward  and  forward  across  the  room  by  the  whole  day 
together,  ruminating  upon  the  possibility  of  making  my 
escape.  How  I  longed  to  be  at  liberty,  is  beyond  my  powxr 
to  tell.  Often  would  I  wish  that  I  was  possessed  with  the 
ability  of  passing  from  place  to  place  with  the  same  facility 
that  wc  could  discern  objects  at  a  distance,  in  this  place 
and  that  place.  How  quick  would  I  then  leave  these  hate- 
ful abodes,  and  wanton  in  the  sun-beams  of  liberty.  How 
easily  could  I  then  elude  the  iron  grasp  of  this  petty  ty- 
rant, who  triumphs  over  the  miseries  of  the  wretched  few 
under  his  control.  Often  would  I  contemplate  upon  the 
situation  of  the  beggar,  who  gained  his  daily  bread  by  the 
cold  hand  of  charity,  and  yet  walked  at  liberty,  free  as  the 
air  in  wUich  he  breathed,  capable  of  going  to  any  place  to 
which  his  fancy  directs  him,  ^nthout  let  or  hinJrance  ;  I 
compared  his  situation  with  mine,  and  in  the  comparison, 
I  fell  infinitely  short  of  his  state  of  happiness. 

I  was  determined  to  try  some  measure  for  my  escape 
from  this  place.  I  peeped  into  ever}'  corner  of  the  room  ; 
1  surveyed  all  the  barricadoeswith  which  I  was  environed; 
I  contemplated  evevy  possible  measure  v.diich  occurred  to 
my  imagination.  I  at  last  concluded  to  begin  my  ope- 
ration upon  the  chimney  way,  hoping  that  I  could,  by  tak- 
ing up  the  foundation  of  the  chimney,  get  to  the  ground, 
and  by  that  mean  undermine  the  jail,  and  make  my  escape 
that  way.  I  laid  the  plan  before  Warner  and  Rood,  for 
mutual  consults  lion  and  approbation.  Warner,  at  once, 
entered  into  the  scheme,  and  promised  his  assistance. 
Rood  refused  to  lend  his  assistance,  but  encouraged  us  to 
proceed  ;  suggesting  that  the  thing  probably  might  be  ac- 
complished. I  soon  saw  into  the  drift  of  Rood.  He  de- 
termined to  take  advantage  of  our  success,  if  we  proved  for- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  1 1 1 

tunate  ;  if  otherwise,  he  thought  to  exculpate  himself  by 
saying  he  had  no  part  in  the  business.  He  had  acted  the 
part  of  a  sycophant  towards  the  jailor  and  the  high  sheriff 
from  the  time  of  his  commitment,  hoping  through  their 
intercession,  to  gain  some  alleviation  from  the  couit  of 
their  sentence,  at  the  next  session. 

Notwithstanding  the  assistance  of  Rood  was  not  to  be 
expected,  Warner  and  I  were  determined  to  make  the  at- 
tempt immediately  after  the  approach  of  night,  as  that  was 
the  only  time  in  which  we  could  work,  without  an  imme- 
diate detection.  Therefore,  after  the  time  of  reiiremcnt, 
we  pulled  off  our  coats,  and  went  to  work  with  a  great  de- 
gree of  energy,  upon  the  stones  in  the  chimney.  We 
soon  almost  filled  our  room  with  stones  and  i-ubbish.  In 
this  situation,  we  experienced  great  iticonveniences  for  the 
want  of  light,  being  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  pine  sliv- 
ers pealed  off  from  a  board,  which  kept  one  hand  constant- 
ly employed  in  feeding  the  blaze,  lest  it  should  be  extin- 
guished, which  would  at  once  defeat  all  our  purposes.  As 
1  was  the  strongest  of  the  two,  I  kept  Warner  feeding  the 
light,  whilst  I  labored  like  Sisyphus  in  rolling  huge  stones 
out  of  the  chimney-way.  Happy  should  1  have  thought 
myself  at  that  time,  if,  Hercules  like,  I  could  have  tunied 
the  course  of  som£  mighty  river  under  the  jail,  to  have  as- 
sisted me  with  its  force,  to  sweep  away  those  huge  rocks. 
I  labored  and  toiled  witbout  intermission,  till  about  mid- 
night, when  coming  to  a  rock  I  could  not  possibly  get  out 
of  the  hole,  I  for  a  moment  despaired  of  success,  after 
straining  with  all  my  might  a  number  of  times  to  no  effect. 
Rood,  seeing  the  situation  in  w^hich  matters  stood,  jumped 
out  of  bed,  and  helped  to  lift  the  stone  from  its  place,  and 
then  returned  agidn  into  bed.  I  again  renewed  my  labor, 
and  had  overcome  tiie  greatest  part  of  the  difhcuilies  be- 
fore us,  when  the  light  became  extinct  for  ^vant  of  fuel, 
t  !ie  board  being  all  consumed.'  I  tried  to  pursue  the  busi- 
iiess  in  the  dark,  but  found  it  in  vtdn,  and  therefore  was 
obiigcd  to  quit  our  undertaking.  How  much  would  I  now 
luive  p.iven  for  a  farthing  candle  I  but  wishes  were  as  vain 
us  cur  expectations  were  unfounded.  The  necessity  of 
our  relinquishirig  the  pursuit  was  £.bsoluie,  and  therefore, 


n:  MEMOIRS  OF 

Nvith  sullen  reluctance,  I  yielded  to  the  force  of  necessity. 
T  did  not  entirely  lose  all  hopes  of  succeedin.fj  yet  by  this 
method.  As  soon  as  day  light  should  afford  an  opportu- 
nity, I  determined  to  renc^v  my  labor,  and  if  by  good  for- 
tune our  Cerberus  should  not  make  us  a  visit  till  some 
time  in  the  morning-,  I  was  still  in  hopes  of  making  the 
breach  soon  enough  to  leave  him  to  his  own  agreeable  re- 
flections, when  he  came  to  search  our  room,  which  he  con- 
stantly did  every  day.  Therefore,  at  the  dawn  of  day,  I 
again  renewed  my  labor  with  increased  animation,  I 
struggled  and  toiled  with  the  huge  rocks  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  establish  the  belief,  that  in  the  course  of  an  hour 
I  should  again  flit  upon  the  wing  of  liberty.  But  O  1  horrid 
to  relate  I  the  thundering  noise  of  the  jailor,  in  opening 
his  ponderous  doors,  throwing  back  the  many  bolts,  and 
turning  the  keys  of  the  enormous  locks,  at  once  'defeated 
all  my  expectations  of  freedom.  The  mighty  castles 
which  I  had  been  building  in  the  air,  came  tumbling  over 
my  head  like  a  sweeping  deluge. 

The  jailor  came  into  the  room,  and  what  was  the  scene 
pictured  to  his  view  ?  Rubbish,  rocks,  stones  and  dirt  fill- 
ed the  room  !  Two  men  almost  naked,  covered  with  sweat 
and  dust! 

The  door  was  again  immediately  shut,  and  the  jailor  re- 
tired, but  his  absence  was  almost  momentary.  He  return- 
ed with  a  band  of  flinty  hearted  myrmidons  to  assist  in  the 
diabolical  system  of  revenge.  We*  were  taken  by  those 
patrons  of  humanity,  tied  to  the  grates,  and  received  ten 
lashes  each,  on  our  naked  backs,  with  a  horse-whip.  Im- 
mediately after  this,  we  were  put  in  the  dungeon,  where 
we  lay  two  days,  and  were  then  removed  to  another  room. 

The  day  after  we  were  confined  in  the  dungeon,  the 
high  slieriiT '^.ame  to  the  j:ul,  and  threatened  to  put  Rood 
into  the  dunp;eon  with  us;  this  threat  had  the  desired  ef- 
fect. Rood  declared  he  had  given  no  aid,  assistance,  or 
advice  in  the  business  of  brealdng  the  jail,  but  on  the  con- 
trary, used  all  the  arguments  and  entreaties  to  induce  us 
to  desist,  v/hich  were  in  Ids  power  :  and  moreover,  said 
he,  "  when  I  saw  they  would  not  give  up  the  attempt,  I 
*  Warner  and  myself. 


blLPHEX  BURROUGHS.  li - 

got  out  Oi  my  bed,  and  wcni  to  the  -window,  in  order  to 
call  the  jailor,  but  when  Burroughs  saw  what  I  was  about, 
lie  came'  up  to  me  with  iiis  penkniie,  and  threatened  to 
stab  me  it  I  proceeded  ;  therefore,  I  was  obliged  to  de- 
sist." 

This  conversation  happened  to  take  place  where  I  over- 
heard it  all.  I  called  to  Rood,  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  in- 
formed him  that  he  was  a  liar,  that  he  had,  in  reality,  been 
;dding  and  assisting  in  our  efforts  for  breakinp:  the  jail  ; 
that  had  he  conducted  with  ingenuousness  in  the  business, 
1  should  have  been  Avilling  to  have  him  exculpated  from 
blame  ;  but  when  he  manifested  a  disposition  to  heap  ad- 
ditional censure  upon  me,  for  the  sake  of  making  himself 
stand  high  in  the  opinion  of  others,  I  supposed  it  a  just 
tribute  to  my  ov/n  vindication,  to  set  matters  relating  to 
him  in  their  true  light.  This  I  expected  would  be  heard 
by  the  high-sheriff'  likewise,  as  they  two  were  in  conver- 
sation together  ;  and  my  main  object  in  making  this  de- 
claration at  this  time,  was  to  prevent  Rood  from  building 
himself  up  in  the  opinion  of  the  sheriff,  at  my  expense. 

When  Rood  found  I  had  detected  him  in  his  duplicity, 
lie  entreated  the  sheriff  to  put  him  into  a  room  separate 
from  me  ;  dreading,  as  I  suppose,  my  just  vengeance  up- 
on him,  for  his  perfidious  conduct.  He  promised  on  this 
condition,  to  give  information  concerning  any  attempt  of 
the  prisoners  to  break  jail.  He  was,  of  consequence,  put 
into  another  room. 

The  second  day  of  my  confinement,  nearly  night,  I 
heard  a  terrible  clanking  of  massy  chains;  approaching  to- 
wards my  apartment.  The  door  of  the  dungeon  was  open- 
ed, when  lo  I  horrid  to  relate  I  a  deformed  Vulcan*  at- 
tended with  his  grisly  Cyclops,!  carrying  with  them  a 
huge  iron  chain,  and  all  the  tools  for  their  infernal  pur- 
pose 1 

I  was  ordered  into  another  apartment,  and  to  work 
went  those  engines  of  cruelty.  They  in  the  first  place, 
made  fast  a  flat  ring  around  my  leg,  about  six  inches  wide 
and  an  inch  thick.  This  was  connected  with  a  chain 
weighing   about  36lb.'^and  ten  feet  in  length.     The  othe" 

*  A  Blacksmith,  -j-  A  joimieAiunn  Blacksinith. 

k2 


ll'i  MEMOIRS  OF 

end  of  the  cliain  was  fastened  to  the  timber  ccniposiii;]^ 
our  floor,  with  a  staple  driven  in  with  a  sledg-e,  which 
made  the  whole  jail  tremble.  After  Lwas  fixed  in  this 
manner,  they  left  me  to  my  own  reflections,  inwardly  ex- 
ulting at  their  mighty  power,  in  makincj  a  poor  v»^retch  se- 
cure from  enjoying  the  cold  comfort  of  hoping  for  better 
times. 

O !  ruthless  mortals  !  said  I,  why  so  infatuated  I  Am 
Jiot  I  a  member  of  the  same  fomily  with  yourselves  ?  Am 
7"!0t  I  capable  of  suffering  the  same  woes  with  others  ? 
Place  yourselves  in  my  situation  for  a  moment,  and  ti  y  to 
3'cgale  your  feelings  in  such  a  condition.  Even  suppose 
a  brother,  a  child,  or  any  near  relative,  or  fi'iend,  in  my 
situation  ;  would  you  conduct  towards  him  as  you  now  do 
icvvards  me,  vvho  am  a  stranger  among  you  ?  Surely  you 
•'.vculd  not.  Does  not  the  language  of  nature,  do  not  the 
principles  of  that  benevolent  religion  of  which  you  make 
so  great  profession,  teach  you  to  treat  the  stranger  with 
kindness  ?  How  then  is  it  that  you  phich  me  with  hunger, 
mangle  me  with  whips,  confine  me  in  a  dungeon,  Sec.  as 
though  you  envied  me  the  enjoyment  of  the  liberty  of 
v/alking  a  room  of  twenty-feet  square  ?  You  have  confined 
me  to  a  space  of  half  that  dimension  ;  and  this  confine- 
ment too  performed  in  the  most  cruel  manner.  Would 
any  of  you,  who  are  walking  at  your  ease,  enjoying  the 
sunshine  of  liberty,  if  placed  in  my  situation,  lie  down 
tam.ely  under  the  burden,  and  not  exert  yourselves  for 
freedom,  when  you  possessed  a  faint  ray  of  hope,  that  you 
may  obtain  it  by  exertion  ?  You  who  have  never  felt  the 
burden  of  confinement,  can  have  but  a  faint  idea  of  its  na- 
ture ;  hence,  you  esteem  it  as  it  feels  to  you,  and  treat 
those  who  are  under  its  pressure,  according  to  your  feel- 
ings. 

1  lay  in  this  dismal  situation  about  a  fortnight,  if  I  re- 
member right.  My  leg,  by  this  time,  was  worn  by  the 
iron  around  it,  till  the  skin  was  quite  off.  In  this  situa- 
tion, I  became  entirely  impatient.  My  sufferings  I  thought 
insupportable.  I  cursed  the  day  in  which  I  was  born.  I 
cursed  my  friends  and  all  the  human  race,  in  the  bitter- 
ness of  my  anguish  I  Well  was  it  for  Warner,  that  I  was 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  11 J 

connned  v,ith  a  drain,  at  that  time,  lest  haply  I  shciikl 
have  vented  my  rar^e  on  him  in  the  overflov/in^  ofny  dis- 
tress. I  roared  with  anguish  I  I  raged  like  a  Bediumite  1 
The  obdurate  heart  of  my  Cerberus  was  not  moved  by 
my  situation  ;  he  was  terrified  and  durst  not  approucti  m.e. 
Yet  that  adamantine  barrier  which  fortified  the  avenues  to 
his  soul,  from  the  approaches  of  coirjpassion,  remained 
entirely  unimpaired,  and  prevented  the  least  motion  of 
pity  from  disturbing  his  repose.  There  are  certain  situ-jp 
ations  of  suficring  which  will  make  a  man  mad  ;  will  take 
away  every  exercise  of  rational  conduct  ;  will  reduce  him 
to  a  state  of  desperation  ;  so  that  he  will  rush  into  the 
most  desperate  danger.  This  was  my  situation  at  this 
time.  I  was  deternnined  not  to  endure  these  trials  any 
longer ;  and,  in  the  language  of  the  poet,  to  end  them 
*'  by  taking  arms  against  myself,  and  all  my  woes  at  once." 

i  ruminated  upon  the  means  of  accomplishing  this  de- 
sign. \'arious  wer«  the  plans  which  offered  to  my  view, 
but  none  appeared  so  eligible  to  answer  the  state  of  tny 
mind,  as  the  terrible  element  of  ftve.  Therefore,  I  de- 
termined to  set  fire  to  the  jail,  and  Sampson-like,  make  a 
sacrifice  at  my  death,  which  should  atone  for  the  cruelties 
I  had  suffered  in  my  life  1  !  1 

The  flooring  of  the  jail  was  laid  with  two  thicknesses 
of  timber,  each  thickness  being  about  fourteen  inches,  and 
over  these  timbers,  a  floor  of  inch  boards.  The  boards 
■which  composed  the  floor  I  cut  away,  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  be  able  to  take  up  a  piece  about  two  feet  long  ;  the 
cracks  between  the  timbers  were  about  two  inches  wide, 
into  which  I  dropped  coals  of  fire,  which  fell  down  to  the 
ground,  twenty-eight  inches  below  the  floor,  among  shav- 
ings and  other  combustible  stuff.  The  air  drawing  in 
strongly,  at  the  place  where  the  fire  was,  it  soon  began  to 
rage  with  great  violence.  I  replaced  the  board  in  its  for- 
raer  situation  ;  placed  my  straw,  v/hich  served  for  my 
bed,  on  the  board,  and  lay  down  with  great  composure, 
viewing  my  sufferings  as  fast  hastening  to  an  end. 

The  floor  being  so  tight  as  not  to  admit  the  blaze  into 
the  room,  it  sought  a  passage  elsewhere,  and  soon  burst 
out,  through  the  underpinning  and  blazed  up  to  the  height 


116  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  the  caves  of  the  jail,  about  tweiity-feci!  ibis  v/as  a 
scene  possessing  more  of  tlie  horrid  sublime  than  any 
tiling  I  ever  met  with  during  my  life. 

At  the  dead  hour  of  night,  v/hen  all  nature  was  lost  in 
forgetfulness,  as  Young  emphatically  expresses  it, 

"  Night,  sable  g-oddcss  !  from  licr  ebon  throne, 

**  In  rayless  majesty,  now  stretclics  forth 

**  Her  leaden  sccpti"e  o'er  a  slumbering  world  ; 

"  Silence,  how  dead  !  and  darkness,  how  jirofound  I 

"  Nor  eye,  nor  lislcninsic  car,  an  object  finds  : 

*'  Creation  sleeps.     'I'ls  as  the  general  pulse 

"  Of  life  stood  still,  and  nature  made  a  pause, 

**  An  awful  pause  I    prophetic  of  her  end. 

*'  And  let  her  prophecy  be  soon  fulfdl'd ; 

*'  Fate  !  drop  the  curtain  !  I  can  lose  no  moi-e." 

In  this  situation,  to  see  columns  of  smoke  and  fire  roll- 
ing up  with  a  majestic  power,  enveloping  me  around,  was 
a  scene  which  surpasses  all  description  I  I  viewed  the  op- 
eration of  the  flames  with  a  tranquil  horror  !  I  now  felt 
myself  exalted  above  the  operations  of  the  petty  tyranny 
of  those  who  had  exercised  the  rod  of  severity  over  me. 
Your  reign,  said  I,  will  be  short,  and  I  shall  not  fall  alto- 
gether unrevenged.  It  may  serve  as  a  memento  to  oth- 
ers, not  to  drive  those  to  desperation,  who  have  the  mis- 
fortune to  fall  under  their  power. 

I  soon  found  that  the  fire  had  loosened  the  staple,  which 
confined  my  chain  to  the  floor  ;  therefore,  I  was  at  liberty 
to  walk  from  one  end  of  the  room  to  the  other,  contem- 
plating the  progress  of  this  dreadful  devouring  element. 
By  this  time,  the  prisoners  in  the  room  over  head  were 
awakened,  alarmed,  and  began  to  cry  out  for  help.  The 
jailor  w^as  aroused,  the  inhabitants  gathered,  and  the 
bolts,  bars,  and  locks,  were  in  motion.  They  immediate- 
ly came  into  my  room,  and  finding  me  loose,  conveyed 
me  into  the  dungeon. 

Whilst  I  v»'as  in  the  dungeon,  I  heard  the  bustle  among 
the  people,  in  putting  out  the  fire.  From  the  exclama- 
tions of  some,  I  thought  the  danger  increased,  and  from 
the  operation  of  others,  I  thought  it  diminished.  My 
Toind  was  wavering  between  hope  and  fear,  till  about  -i 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  117 

o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  I  found  the  noise  decreased 
until  it  became  entirely  silent.  I  now  concluded  they  had 
subdued  the  fire,  and  of  course,  I  should  be  called  to  an 
account  as  disagreeable,  as  when  I  attempted  to  break  jail. 
The  scene  following,  of  all  the  scenes  of  my  life,  strikes 
my  mind  with  the  most  distress  in  relating.  To  paint  it 
according  to  the  existence  of  facts,  and  the  sensations  aris- 
ing from  those  facts,  is  an  arduous  task,  too  great  for  me 
to  undertake,  till  I  have  refreshed  nature  with  a  little  re- 
laxation by  sleep,  and  application  to  other  objects,  which 
will  turn  my  mind  a  while  from  the  disgust  which  the 
contemplation  of  this  subject  creates.  Therefore,  sir,  ac- 
cept my  sincere  wish  for  your  welfare,  my  desire  that  you 
may  never  taste  that  cup  of  adversity,  w^iich  I  have  drain- 
ed to  the  dregs.     I  am,  dear  sir,  S^c. 


CHAP.  XVI. 


'TIs  only  change  of  pain. 


"  A  bitter  chang-e  !  severer  for  severe  , 

"  The  day  too  short  for  my  distress  !  and  night, 

*'  E'en  in  the  zenith  of  her  dark  domain, 

"  Is  sunshine  to  the  color  of  n.y  fute." 

J\.T  9  o'clock  in  the  morning,  I  heard  the  usual  tumult 
at  entering  the  outer  door  of  the  jail.  I  saw  a  crowd  were 
entering  and  passing  along  the  alley-way,  previous  to  their 
coming  to  the  dungeon  door  !  The  door  opened  !  The 
high  sheriff,  jailor,  and  about  twenty  more,  entered  !  I  saw 
by  the  appearance  of  things,  that  I  must  prepare  for  the 
worst  possible  event.  The  sheriff  advanced  with  a  cock- 
ed pistol,  w^hich  he  presented  to  my  breast,  and  swore  by 
God,  that  if  I  offered  to  resi^^t,  he  would  put  me  to  instant 
death.  Ke  had  an  idea  that  I  had  become  desperate,  and 
Vrould  sacrifice  my  ov»n  life  for  the  sake  of  ridding  mvsel/ 
from  the  misery  I  was  under,  and  obtaining  revenge  for 
the  injuries  I  had  suffered. 

I  called  him  a  despicable,  cov/ardly  wretch,  to  advance 
upon  a  poor,  helpless,*  unarmed  man,  in  the  manner  lie 


118  MEMOIRS  OF 

assumed.  I  told  him  I  placed  his  utmost  malice  at  defi- 
ance, and  challenged  him  to  do  his  worst.  I  told  him  I 
expected  every  thing  base  and  cruel  from  him,  ever  sensi- 
ble that  the  ignoble  spirit  which  possessed  a  coward,  led 
to  cruelty  and  barbarity.  That  I  had  been  punished  igno- 
bly once,  for  nothing  ;  and  therefore,  I  determined  he 
should  have  something  for  his  next  attempt  which  should 
make  his  cowardly  soul  tremble* with  fearful  apprehension. 

He  ordered  his  posse  to  advance  and  seize  me.  They 
advanced  and  laid  hold  of  me.  As  soon  as  they  had  made 
me  secure,  the  sheriff  took  hold  of  my  hand  and  twisted  it 
round,  so  as  to  make  the  pain  veiy  sensible.  I  thought  he 
would  have  wrung  my  arm  off  my  shoulder.  I  was  led 
out  of  jail  in  this  manner,  into  the  yard.  I  was  then  tied 
fast  to  the  grates,  and  stripped  naked. 

The  reason  why  I  was  carried  into  the  yard  was,  that  this 
mild  distributor  of  justice  might  have  a  better  opportunity 
to  give  his  whip  full  scope,  without  impediment.  He  im- 
proved his  opportunity,  and  with  a  whip,  commonly  known 
by  the  name  of  hunting-whip,  he  laid  about  me  with  all 
his  vengeance,  for  about  five  minutes.  I  then  was  taken 
down,  and  Warner  put  in  my  place,  who  received  twenty 
lashes.  We  were  then  rc-conveyed  into  the  dungeon  ; 
when  I  was  loosed  from  the  iron  I  had  about  my  leg,  and 
in  lieu  of  that,  a  large  ring  was  put  about  each  leg,  with 
an  iron  bar  running  from  one  to  the  other.  This  bar  was 
bolted  to  the  floor.  I  tlien  had  an  iron  about  my  waist, 
and  bolted  to  the  floor :  after  all,  I  was  hand-cuffed  and 
pinioned 

The  sheriff  tlien  came  to  take  his  farewell,  and  parted 
with  some  hearty  curses  for  my  incorrigible  conduct.  The 
curses  he  received  back  again  with  interest.  I  was  now 
left  to  myjielf,  a  gloomy  spectacle  of  helpless  misery, 
'i'his  was  in  the  month  of  December,  in  the  year  1785,  a 
remarkable  cold  month  ;  and  my  confinement  in  this  situ- 
ation continued  until  January,  1786,  being  thirty-two  days 
in  the  vrhole.  Here  I  was  deprived  of  fire,  of  clothing  and 
exercise,  till  the  time  was  nearly  expired  ;  and  even  the 
pitiful  allcw.mce  of  straw  to  lie  on  :  but  all  this  wi\s  noth- 
ing, compared  with  what  I  suffered  with  hunger. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  1 1 9 

Those  who  know  the  cruel  effects  of  hunger,  are  the 
only  people  who  can  understand  me  when  I  relate  these 
facts.  But  fev/  people  have  ever  felt  its  effects  ;  there- 
fore, should  I  relate  this  story  to  people  in  general,  not 
many  would  know  what  I  meant. 

I  had  not  been  in  this  situation  many  days,  before  I  be- 
gan to  experience  the  severe  effects  of  the  cold.  As  I 
could  not  stand,  walk  nor  step,  the  only  recourse  I  had  to 
keep  my  feet  from  freezing,  was  rubbing  them  against  an 
iron  spike,  a  little  from  my  feet,  perhaps  three  inches ; 
which  had  either  never  been  driven  into  the  floor  entirely, 
or  else  had  started  back  by  some  mean,  the  space  of  about 
four  inches.  This  I  wore  very  smooth  with  a  perpetual 
friction.  No  person  was  allowed  barely  to  look  through 
the  little  aperture  into  the  dungeon.  This  little  hole  was 
secured  by  a  door,  so  as  to  hide  every  object  from  our  sight. 

About  the  seventh  or  eighth  day  after  my  confinement 
in  this  pandimonium,  the  pains  of  hunger  became  excru- 
ciating. Gladly  would  I  have  eaten  my  own  flesh.  I  even 
had  a  hankering  desire  to  get  the  excrements  out  of  the 
vault,  but  that  v/as  out  of  my  power.  All  my  thoughts 
were  occupied  upon  victuals.  I  could  not  conceive  what 
I  had  been  about  through  life,  that  I  had  not  eaten  more 
when  I  had  the  opportunity.  I  could  not  possibly  con- 
ceive of  the  idea  of  a  man  satisfied  with  eating.  That  a 
man  could  be  glutted  with  food,  so  as  to  loath  it,  was  a  fact 
established  in  my  mind,  by  my  own  experience ;  yet,  at 
this  time,  I  could  not  believe  it ;  indeed,  I  thought  I  knew 
to  the  contrary.  Had  I  been  possessed  of  an  empire  at 
this  time,  I  should  have  parted  with  it  in  a  moment,  for  a 
supply  of  food  for  the  present  necessity.  It  is  said  that 
hunger  will  break  through  a  stone  wall,  but  I  say  that  hun- 
ger will  carry  a  man  the  greatest  length  of  any  thing  in 
nature,  it  destroys  the  feelings  of  humanity,  and  makes 
a  man  a  savage.  It  begets  in  his  nature  a  ferocious  feel- 
ing, which  assimulates  him  more  to  the  tyger  than  to  a 
being  possessing  the  milk  of  human  kindness ;  therefore, 
take  the  mildest  couple  that  ever  lived,  reduce  them  by 
famine  to  a  state  of  extremity,  and  you  will  see  the  fond 
husband  tearing  from  his  beloved  partner  the  food  upon 


120  MEMOIRS  OF 

which  her  existence  depends.  Nay  more,  you  will  see, 
in  this  situation,  the  tender  mother  refusing  her  dying  in- 
fant the  smallest  pittance  of  sustenance  to  its  expiring  en- 
treaties ! 

Must  not  the  mind  of  sensibility  shrink  with  horror  at  a 
sight  so  dreadful  ?  And  this  have  I  experienced  in  a  land 
of  Christianity  !  A  land  where  great  professions  of  human- 
ity and  christivin  benevolence  have  been  made  I  In  charity 
to  the  inhabitants,  I  now  believe  they  did  not  know  the  ex- 
tremity of  my  sufferings.  At  that  time  I  did  believe  it, 
and  that  they  concurred  in  the  business;  but  1  know  my 
situation  did  not  admit  of  cool  reflection  and  candid  rea- 
soning upon  the  subject.  I  begged,  I  entreated  of  the 
keeper  of  these  infernal  abodes,  for  bread,  but  my  entrea- 
ties were  given  to  the  winds.  I  raved,  I  swore,  I  tore, 
cursed  and  lamented  ;  but  all  did  not  move  his  obdurate 
feelings.  After  the  fifteenth  day,  the  rage  of  hunger  be- 
gan to  subside.  Nature,  tired  with  the  struggle,  gave 
way,  and  began  her  retreat.  I  grew  faint  and  sick.  There 
was  a  gloom  hung  over  me,  which  is  entirely  inexpressi- 
ble. Nothing  did  I  ever  feel  of  the  kind  before  or  since; 
and  how  to  describe  it  to  you  now,  I  am  entirely  at  a  loss. 
I  know  if  I  undertake,  I  shall  not  succeed  in  giving  you 
an  image  of  the  most  distant  resemblance, 
r  I  grew  sick  of  life  ;  1  hated  the  idea  of  ever  mixing 
again  with  tlie  world  ;  I  wished  for  death  with  an  impa- 
tient ardor.  There  is  a  situation,  sir,  when  life  is  no  more 
sweet.  There  are  circumstances,  under  which  life  be- 
comes a  burden,  and  is  no  longer  desirable.  This  was 
my  situ-ition.  I  began  to  console  myself  with  the  hope 
that  my  miseries  would  soon  have  an  end  in  the  arms  of 
death.  The  approach  of  this  grim  tyrant  rrow  was  the 
most  pleasing  object  of  my  contemplation.  Here  I  found 
a  balm  for  all  my  wounds.  ^^  To  rest  from  my  labors'*  in 
this  world,  was  the  height  of  my  wishes.  Here  was  a 
pleasure  in  the  prospect  which  assuaged  the  rage  of  my 
pain,  and  calmed  the  boisterous  emotions  of  my  mind. 

I  had  now  become  emaciated  to  a  skeleton.  My  beard 
had  not  been  cut,  during  the  time  of  my  being  in  the  dun- 
geon J  hence  it  was  about  two  inches  long.     My  hair  had 


STEPHEN  BUUROUGHS.  12  i 

not  been  combed,  which  stood  in  every  direction.  From 
these  circumstances,  I  had  more  the  appearance  of  some 
savage  bea§t  of  the  forest,  than  any  thing  appertaining  to 
the  human  species.  I  now  looked  for  the  speedy  end  of 
my  toils.  I  found  my  strength  daily  decreasing,  and  con- 
cluded that  nature  must  soon  march  out  of  her  fortress, 
and  give  entire  possession  to  the  king  of  (errors. 

Matters  being  in  this  situation,  one  morning  about  1 1 
o'clock,  I  heard  the  outer  door  of  the  jail  loosed  from  ii s 
bolts  and  bars.  The  door  looking  through  the  little  aper- 
ture into  the  dungeon  was  opened,  and  the  name  of  Bur- 
roughs was  vociferated  by  the  jailor.  *-Vov  him  to  have 
any  business  with  me  at  that  time  of  the  day,  was  what 
had  not  happened  for  thirty-tv/o  days  before,  arid  what 
could  be  his  business  now,  1  could  not  conceive.  The  ob- 
jects of  life  were  so  far  out  of  my  view,  that  I  thought  at 
first  to  pay  no  attention  to  this  call,  but  upon  more  mature 
reflection,  I  i-ose  up  as  far  as  I  was  able,  and  looked  through 
the  little  hole.  I  there  saw  a  man  whom  I  did  not  reco^- 
nise,  a  stranger.  He  called  me  by  my  christian  name, 
when  he  spoke  to  me.  Who  it  was  addressing  me  thus 
familiarly  I  could  not  tell.  I  told  him  he  had  the  advan- 
tage of  being  unknown  to  me,  while  I  was  known  to  him. 
He  asked  me  if  1  did  not  know  my  uncle  ?  I  surveyed  him 
^vith  some  attention,  and  at  length  saw  he  was  my  moth- 
er's oldest  brother. 

He  appeared  to  examine  my  condition  with  as  much 
attention  as  his  situation  would  admit  of.  He  entered  in- 
to some  general  observations  upon  the  nature  of  my  folly 
in  setting  the  jail  on  fire,  and  attempting  to  break  out. 
He  lamented  the  distressed  situation  in  which  he  found 
me,  and  handed  me  two  dollars  to  supply  my  piesent  ne- 
cessities.    He  then  retired. 

Immediately  after  tiiis,  the  jailor's  wife  came  into  the 
alley,  and  told  me  if  I  wanted  any  victuals  she  would  sup- 
ply me  with  it.  How  this  declaiation  sounded  in  my  ears, 
you  will  more  readily  conceive  than  I  can  describe.  To 
have  a  prospect  of  a  speedy  supply  of  food,  again  recalled 
the  desire  of  life.  My  feelings  were  in  arms,  and  all  the 
vigor  of  desire  was  again  rekindled  in  my  bosom.     I  toM 

L 


J-^  MEMOIRS  OF 

her  I  wished  for  something  to  eat  immediately  ;  and  on 
he  I-  informing  there  was  nothing  ready  dressed,  I  besought 
her  to  fetch  me  some  bread,  that  I  might  be  eating,  whilst 
she  was  making  ready  something  else.  She  brought  lue 
;;  brown  loaf  weighing  about  four  pounds.* 

V/ith  what  pleasure  did  I  view  -this  precious  morsel 
approiching  me.  I  half  devoured  it  with  my  eyes  before 
I  got  hold  of  it.  How  sweet  was  the  taste  !  how  exqui- 
site the  pleasure  1  Warner  laid  hold  of  the  loaf  and  tore 
away  about  half  the  contents.  Yes,  said  I,  thou  fellow 
sufferer !  eat  and  be  satisfied  i  the  day  of  bitterness  is 
over,  we  have  the  promise  again  of  food  sufficient  to  sup- 
ply the  calls  of  nature  ! 

The  bread  was  almost  instantly  gone,  but  the  cries  of 
hunger  were  not  appeased.  Soon  however  the  wife  of 
the  j  iilor  came  with  strong  tea  and  toast.  I  was  astonish- 
ed she  brought  so  little,  but  she  understood  my  situation 
better  than  I  did  myself  We  eat  up  the  recruit  of  food 
in  a  moment.  I  entreated  for  more,  but  could  not  obtain, 
it,  under  near  an  hour.  When  I  had  received  my  third 
portion,  and  we  had  eaten  it,  Vv  arner  began  to  experience 
terrible  pains  in  his  bowels,  and  I  thought,  for  some  time, 
he  must  have  expired  under  the  operation. 

The  same  characters  who  had  made  their  appearance 
when  I  was  bound  in  the  manner  described,  now  entered 
the  dungeon  again,  and  to  work  went  hammers  and  files, 
and  in  about  half  an  hour  I  was  freed  from  the  terrible  load 
of  iron  under  which  I  had  groaned  for  thirty-two  days. 

When  I  was  liberated  from  these  irons,  I  had  almost 
lost  the  use  of  my  limbs  ;  my  feet  would  hardly  answer  my 
desire  for  walking  ;  for  both  of  them  had  been  touched 
with  frost,  and  the  irons  on  one  of  my  legs  had  been  put 
on  so  tight  as  to  cause  a  swelling,   which  ended  in  a  sore 

♦  For  humanity's  sake,  however,  it  is  to  be  wislied  that  this 
good  woman  had  offered  her  starving  prisoner  food,  before  he  had 
i-eceived  the  uvo  dollars !  Xotwithstunding-  his  aggravated  crimes, 
and  iiTitating  conduct,  there  is  no  question  but  BuiTOUglis  receiv- 
ed punishment  far  exceeding  his  deserts.  And  the  savage  treat- 
ment he  met  uitli,  particularly  in  this  prison,  is  enough  to  make 
one  blush  for  the  christian  naipe  ! 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  12  J 

about  six  inches  long,  and  which  has  never  yet  gotten  en- 
tirely well. 

I  was  removed  out  of  the  dungeon  into  an  upper  room, 
which  was  much  more  comfortable  than  the  one  I  had  first 
occupied.  Here  I  received  food  as  often  as  once  in  three 
liours,  through  the  next  day.  Yet  I  could  not  be  satisfied  ; 
my  appetite  was  keen  as  ever,  even  when  I  was  so  full  as 
to  prevent  me  from  swallowing  more.  This  continued  to 
be  the  case  for  the  space  of  a  fortnight  longer,  when  I 
found  my  appetite  regulated  upon  the  common  scale  of 
eating. 

At  this  time,  my  uncle  wrote  the  following  letter  to  my 
father,  giving  him  some  account  of  my  situation  in  North- 
ampton jail. 

,  Charlton^  January  7tli^   \7Q6. 

^  BELOVED  BROfHER  AND  SISfER, 

•■^  I  have  been  at  Northampton  twice  within  this  month 
past;  visited  your  son  Stephen  each  time.  The  first  time, 
I  found  him  chained  down  in  the  dungeon,  for  attempting 
to  burn  the  jail  ;  and  also  for  attempting,  at  another  time, 
to  dig  through  the  chimney.  I  expostulated  with  him, 
with  regard  to  his  former  conduct,  endeavoring  to  shew 
him  his  folly  in  trying  to  break  and  burn  the  jail.  I  ob- 
tained a  promise  that  he  should  be  let  out  of  the  dungeon. 
The  second  time  I  was  there,  which  was  this  week,  I 
found  him  in  the  common  prison  unchained.  I  found  him 
very  needy  each  time,  and  particularly  the  first,  his  allow- 
ance being  veiy  short.  I  let  him  have  two  dollars  ihe 
first  time,  which  I  believe  he  made  a  good  use  of ;  the 
second  time  I  found  him  destitute  of  a  shirt ;  I  got  him  a 
new  one,  and  let  him  have  tliirteen  and  four  pence  in  cash. 

''  As  I  am  in  a  few  days  going  to  the  General  Assembly 
in  Boston,  it  is  not  likely  I  shall  see  him  again  until  spring, 
although  I  have  lately  been  in  something  of  a  habit  of  vis- 
iting at  Northampton.  Being  in  haste  and  the  bearer  in 
waiting,  shall  only  subjoin,  that  I  am  your  loving  brother, 

EBENEZER  DAVIS, 
Rev.  E.  Burroughs." 


1-24.  MEMOIRS  OF 

After  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  my  father  wrote  to  an 
acquaintance  ofiiis  in  Northampton,  by  the  name  of  Strong, 
to  p-iv  some  attention  to  my  needs,  afford  me  what  my  ne- 
eesbities  called  for,  and  draw  iipor>  him  for  the  amount  of 
cxpenocs  incurred. 

By  some  strange  fatality,  when  this  letter  arrived,  cap- 
tain Strong  either  thought,  or  wished  people  to  believe 
he  thought  it  a  forgery  of  mine.  He  paid  no  attention  to 
it ;  and  tiie  report  was  soon  circulated,  that  I  had  forged  a 
letter  in  my  father's  name  and  sent  it  to  captain  Strong  ; 
and  ev€a  at  a  very  modern  period,  a  gentleman  of  some 
eminence,  from  Northampton,  has  repeated  this  false  re- 
port, ij>  those  places  where  he  knew  it  must  be  attended 
with  very  disagreeable  consequences  to  me. 

And  now,  sir,  permit  me  to  digress  a  moment  from  the 
course  of  tiie  narrative,  and  offer  a  few  remarks  upon  the 
very  singular  scenes  through  which  I  passed  in  this  jail. 
As  you,  sir,  have  been  long  in  the  practice  of  the  law,  you 
v\  ill  more  readily  conceive  of  the  illegality  of  these  trans- 
actions. 

The  fundamental  principles  upon  which  our  liberties 
and  privileges  are  founded,  are  the  trial  by  jury,  that  na  un- 
natural and  cruel  punishments  shall  be  inflicted,  and  that 
i\  pei"son-  shall  never  be  punished,  but  by  due  course  of  law. 
I'bese  leading  principles,  I  believe,  are  never  to  be  deviat- 
ed from,  except  in  case  of  rebellion,  when  the  state  is  in 
danger ;  then  martial  law  may  operate  ;  and  even  when 
martial  law  has  its  operation,  it  is  necessary  to  have  mat- 
ters of  fact  esLabiislied  by  evidence,  and  the  voice  of  a  ma- 
iority  of  three,  at  least,  to  v/arrant  a  punishment.  In  the 
jyunishnients  inflicted  on  me,  none  of  these  preliminaries 
have  been  attended  to,  but  I  have  been  subjecicd  to  the  ar- 
Mtn'.rv  will  of  a  petty  tyrant.  He  punished  when  his  in- 
cjinittion  was  for  cruelty,  and  inflicted  what  kind  his  pieas- 
me  directed.  It  may  be  urged,  that  I  hud  made  myself 
iiabie  to  punishment,  by  my  conduct  in  jail.  This  being 
supposed,  which  1  by  no  means  believe  ;  yet,  to  punish 
ine  without  a  legal  trial,  was  as  ubsolutelycontrary  to  every 
tiictate  of  law  and  justice,  as  though  I  had  been  in  fact  in- 
nocent,    it  may  further  be  s&id,  that  my  sentence  con&n- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  1::^ 

ing  me  to  the  liouse  cf  correction,  made  me  liable  to  the 
punishment  of  the  mrvster  of  the  house  at  his  disci  etion. 
If  this  be  the  case,  we  take  away  from  one  class  of  citi- 
zens a  right,  which  \ve  have  very  justly  been  tenacious  of, 
and  have  subjected  them  to  a  state  of  as  abject  slaveiy,as 
the  Negroes  in  the  West-Indies.  And  even  if  this  doc- 
trine is  well  founded,  yet  the  injustice  of  their  conduct 
will  receive  no  extenuation  ;  for  Wanier  was  punished 
equal  in  kind,  though  not  in  quantity  with  myself,  although 
he  was  only  committed  for  trial,  and  of  course  must  be  in- 
nocent in  the  eye  of  the  law,  until  he  should  be  convicted. 
As  the  narrative  will  not  admit  of  treating  this  business 
largely,  I  have  given  you  only  the  leading  ideas,  which 
possess  my  mind  upon  the  subject,  knowing  your  ability 
to  state  them  in  your  o^\-n  view,  much  more  clearly  and 
logically  than  what  I  shall  do. 

About  this  time  Philips,  of  whom  you  have  heard  men- 
tion, was  committed  to  this  jail,  and  lodged  in  the  room 
where  I  was  first  confined  ;  likewise  one  Hinds  was  lodg- 
ed in  the  room  where  I  now  was.  This  Hinds  vvas  com- 
mitted for  adultery  with  the  wife  of  one  Wallace,  and  the 
woman  herself  was  kept  in  the  common  dwelling  house 
of  the  jailor.  One  Norton,  who  was  charged  v,ith  the 
murder  of  a  man  by  the  name  of  Brown,  was  committed 
about  this  time,  and  confined  in  the  dungeon.  It  appear- 
ed from  all  the  information  I  could  gather,  that  the  cir- 
cumstances of  this  business  were  of  the  followhig  nature, 
viz.  Norton  being  a  house-joiner,  was  on  a  new  building 
laying  shingles,  when  Bro^vn  came  by,  and  in  a  playful 
manner,  threw  stubble  at  Norton  a  number  of  times,  which 
impeded  him  in  his  work.  Norton  was  a  man  hasty  and 
petulant  in  his  temiper.  He  told  Brov/n  if  he  did  not  de- 
sist, he  would  come  down  and  give  him  a  ficgging.  This 
threat  induced  Brown  to  continue  his  folly  v/ith  more  ea- 
gerness, to  shew  that  he  did  not  regard  Norton's  threat. 
With  this,  Norton  immediately  descended  the  ladder,  came 
up  to  Brown,  and  a  scuflie  ensued.  Some  blows  passed  ; 
at  length  Norton  gave  Brown  an  unlucky  suohe,  afte:- 
which  he  never  breathed  again. 
L  2 


126  MEMOIRS  OF 

Xorton  seeing  that  Brown  v.as absolutely  de^d,  made  his 
escape,  and  left  the  country.  He  had  been  absent  about 
twelve  months,  when  he  became  known  in  some  part  of 
Connecticut,  where  he  resided,  and  was  apprehended  and 
brought  to  Northampton  for  trial. 

I'rom  experiencing-  the  treatment  I  had  received  in  this 
p!:^-cc,  I  had,  through  mistake,  formed  an  idea  that  Norton 
v^Guld  have  no  chance  for  justice  at  the  time  of  his  trial ;  I 
faui-id  likewise  he  entertained  the  same  idea  of  this  matter 
himself.  I  sincerely  wished  him  out  of  their  hands,  and 
felt  v/illing  to  yield  him  any  -iissistance  which  was  in  my 
power. 

Miitters  were  in  this  situation  when,  one  night  about  12 
o'clock,  I  heard  a  whisper  as  though  it  came  from  out  of 
t;:c  room,  calling  me  by  name.  I  sprang  up  and  ran  to  thtf 
window,  but  found  the  voice  did  not  come  from  there.  I 
then  ran  to  the  door,  but  there  again  was  disappointed. 
^Vhere  the  noise  came  from  I  could  not  conjecture,  which 
btili  continued.  I  at  last  bethought  me  of  the  pump,  lead- 
ing into  the  vault,  under  the  jail.  I  ran,  and  uncovering 
the  pump,  could  easily  distinguish  the  voice  of  Norton, 
who  had  gotten  down  into  the  vault.  He  intreated  rae  to 
let  him  have  a  knife,  for  "  by  that,"  said  he,  "  I  can  make 
my  escape."  Had  it  been  a  diadem,  for  aught  I  knoAV,  I 
should  hp.ve  parted  with  it,  to  have  assisted  him  at  this  mo- 
ment. I  took  the  knife,  and  tied  it  to  a  string,  and  let  it 
down.  I  then  covered  the  pump,  lay  down,  and  reflected 
with  a  greiit  degree  of  pleasure  upon  my  affording  somei 
small,  assistance  to  befriend  a  human  being  whom  I  never 
saw.  Truly,  said  T,  this  conduct  has  been  guided  by  the 
prhrciples  of  philanthropy.  I  soon  fell  into  a  sound  sleep  : 
my  slumber  was  refreshing  and  sweet :  I  felt  entirely  at 
peace  v»  ith  myself,  under  the  fullest  conviction  I  had  acted 
ixcording  to  the  plan  of  the  good  Samaritan.  I  did  not 
know  that  any  in  the  room  were  awake  at  this  lime  j  there- 
fore, I  thought  myself  the  only  person  possessed  of  this 
secret.  The  next  day.  Hinds  was  taken  out  of  the  room 
where  I  was,  and  let  into  the  alley  with  the  woman,  for  a 
criminal  connexion  with  whom  he  was  confined.  They 
remained  together  about  an  hour,  v,  hen  he  was  put  back. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  127 

into  the  room  v.here  I  was.  Soon  after,  I  heard  a  r.iim- 
ber  of  people  cntermg-  the  outer  door  of  the  jail,  and  the 
clanking  of  chains,  us  thou.L^h  some  infernal  purpose  was 
in  agitation  1  listened  with  attention,  and  soon  heard  the 
dungeon  door  open  ;  when,  to  my  surprise,  they  cried  out 
that  Norton  was  gone.  I  did  not  expect  he  would  so  scoii 
have  made  his  escape  ;  and  now  felt  the  exultation  of  joy 
on  account  of  his  success.  My  joy  was  soon  damped,  by 
hearing  another  voice,  soon  after,  crying  out,  "here  he  is  ! 
here  he  is  1",  Norton,  at  this  time,  was  so  busy  at  work 
in  the  vault,  that  he  never  heard  any  of  the  uproar,  until  a 
youngster,  putting  his  head  dov»n  into  the  hole  he  had 
made,  saw  him  at  work. 

They  soon  got  him  up  and  made  him  fast  in  irons :  af- 
ter this,  they  came  into  my  room,  took  me  out,  carried 
me  into  the  room  where  I  was  formerly  confined,  and 
there  made  me  fast  with  my  old  chain.  Here  were  Phil- 
ips and  Warner.  Soon  after  the  jailor  had  left  us,  I  began 
to  discover  the  amazing  ability  for  contrivance  which 
Philips  possessed.  He  freed  me  from  my  irons  in  ten 
minutes.  We  then  all  went  to  work  to  make  the  hole 
larger  through  our  pump  into  the  vault  under  the  jail.  This 
we  effected,  to  my  surprise,  in  the  space  of  about  six  hours, 
so  that  a  man,  when  stripped  naked,  could  let  himself  down 
through  it  into  the  vault  This  hole  was  made  in  such  a 
manner  as  entirely  to  secure  it  from  the  observation  of 
those  who  perpetually  searched  the  jail.  Even  should 
they  examine  the  hole  itself,  they  would  not  discover  its 
being  otherwise  than  what  it  was  originally,  so  perfect 
was  Philips  master  of  what  he  undertook,  of  such  a  nature. 
"We  wrought  with  assiduity  all  the  night  following,  and 
had  made  such  progress  in  digging  out,  that  we  arrived  at 
the  stones  of  the  underpinning  of  the  jail,  they  being  sunk 
about  four  feet  into  the  earth. 

The  prisoners  in  tlie  room  out  of  which  I  was  taken,  and 
especially  Hinds,  were  of  opinion  they  heard  a  noise  on 
the  night  that  we  were  at  work  in  the  vault ;  but  the  other 
prisoners  suspecting  how  the  case  really  was,  and  being 
somewhat  jealous  of  Hinds,  endeavored  to  persiiade  hira 
that  it  was  a  matter  of  mere  conjecture,  not  founded  hi 
reality. 


128  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  next  da^,  I  found  Hinds  and  his  paramour  were  put 
into  the  alley  to.^ether,  as  formerly.  Placing  myself  in  a 
situation  were  I  could  hear  their  conversation,  I  became 
acquainted  with  a  very  singular  and  curious  circumstance, 
viz.  that  Hinds  had  entered  into  an  agreement  to  discover 
whatever  plan  should  be  in  agitation  for  the  purpose  of 
breaking  the  jail,  and  was  to  receive,  as  a  compensation, 
liberty  to  be  alone  v,  ith  his  Miss  one  hour  in  the  course  of 
every  day.  That  in  consequence  of  this  agreement,  he 
had  given  information  of  my  helping  Norton  to  my  knife, 
and  tiiat  he  was  about  breaking  jail.  In  consequence  of 
which  information,  Norton  M^as  discovered,  and  I  was  again 
confined  in  irons.  Hinds  told  his  prostitute,  that  he  had 
heard  the  noise  of  somebody  digging,  and  believed  Norton 
was  attempting  to  break  out  again.  This  noise,  said  he, 
continued  through  the  whole  night.  After  this  interview, 
they  were  both  replaced  in  their  former  situation. 

Soon  after  this,  the  jailor,  and  a  number  with  him,  made 
a  visit  to  the  dungeon  ;  carrying  lights  with  them,  in  or- 
der to  search  every  hole  and  corner.  After  about  an  hour's 
investigation,  they  gave  up  the  pursuit  as  fruitless ;  con- 
cluding that  Hinds  was  mistaken  in  his  conjecture,  or  else 
the  breach  was  made  in  another  room.  They  therefore 
came  into  the  room  where  I  was  confined,  and  after  search- 
ing some  time,  concluded  some  mistake  must  have  exist- 
ed with  regard  to  the  conjecture  of  Hinds.  The  jailor 
even  looked  into  our  pump,  and  could  discover  no  manner 
of  breach  which  we  had  made  :  however,  he  thought  that 
the  hole  was  so  large,  as  possibly  to  admit  a  small  boy 
down  it ;  and  therefore  determined  he  would  make  it  more 
secure. 

You  will  naturally  ask  the  question,  with  regard  to  my 
irons,  whether  this  was  not  a  suspicious  circumstance,  as 
well  as  the  noise  ?  This  business  was  fixed  equally  secure 
with  the  other.  After  I  had  been  liberated  from  my  irons 
by  Philips,  he  made  them  answer  a  number  of  other  pur- 
poses in  the  prosecution  of  his  plans  ;  and  likewise  pre- 
pared them  in  such  a  manner,  that  I  could  slip  them  on 
my  leg  in  half  a  minute,  so  as  to  wear  the  appearance  of 
remaining  closely  chaineci :  this  I  always  did  when  I  heard 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  129 

the  jailor  entering,  so  that  by  this  mean  I  remained  undis- 
covered. 

After  the  search  was  over,  I  called  to  one  of  the  prison- 
ers in  the  room  with  Hinds,  Grinold  by  name,  who  was  a 
person  holding  such  conduct  as  Hinds  had  been  guilty  of 
in  the  utmost  abhorrence,  and  related  to  him  a  simple  ac- 
count of  facts  respecting  Hinds.  Grinold  immediately 
began  an  altercation  with  Hinds ;  they  soon  proceeded  to 
blows— and  Hinds,  who  was  as  great  a  coward  as  he  was  a 
villain,  soon  cried  enough  ;  but  this  subterfuge  did  not  an- 
ssver  his  purpose.  Grinold  still  continued  to  beat  him,  al- 
ledging  that  such  conduct  as  Hinds  w^as  guilty  of  did  not 
entitle  him  to  the  common  usage  under  such  circum- 
stances. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  jailor  came  into  my  room,  and  the 
blacksmith  with  him  ;  and  after  taking  up  our  pump,  plac- 
ed two  bars  of  iron  over  the  hole,  and  spiked  them  to  the 
timber  This,  I  thought,  was  an  efTecin'-il  security  against 
our  ever  again  getting  iiuo  the  vault.  But  no  sooner  was 
the  jailor  gone,  than  Philips  shewed  me  how  mistaken  I 
was  in  my  conjectures.  Not  more  than  six  minutes  after 
their  departure,  before  we  had  all  the  irons  loosed  from 
their  place  ;  and  that  was  effected  in  this  manner,  viz.  We 
took  the  chain  that  was  around  my  leg,  and  put  it  under 
one  of  the  iron  bars,  and  fetching  it  round,  fastened  it 
together  over  the  bar,  with  a  key  made  of  one  of  the 
links.  Alter  this  was  done,  we  took  an  oaken  bench,  about 
ten  feet  long,  made  of  a  slab,  as  much  as  four  inches  thick 
in  the  middle,  and  put  the  end  oi  this  bench  into  the  bite 
of  the  chain,  placing  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to  gain  a  great 
purchase  ;  we  lifted  the  b.ir  in  an  instcuit,  drawing  out  the 
spikes  with  ease. 

Immediately  upon  the  setting  in  of  night,  we  again  went 
to  work  ;  but  had  r^K.  continued  many  minutes  before  tiie 
outer  door  of  the  jail  operied,  and  in  came  a  number  of 
people,  and  passing  our  door,  went  up  to  the  prisoners  over 
head.  Here  Hinds  had  an  opportunity  of  giving  the  hint 
to  the  jcdior,  ihdt  he  had  something  to  communicate  to 
him.  Therefore,  after  the  people  had  finished  their  busi- 
ness witii  the  piiooncrs,  the  jailoi  ipuk  Kinds  out  into  the 


130  MEMOIRS  OF 

alley,  and  there  learned  that  we  had  broken  again  into  the 
vault.  Upon  this  information,  the  jailor  came  into  the 
room,  and  removed  all  the  prisoners  into  the  dungeon,  ex- 
cepting myself,  being  in  irons,  so  securely  confined,  that 
he  remained  at  ease  wiih  regard  to  me. 

After  all  matters  were  again  settled,  I  silently  let  my- 
self out  of  irons,  went  down  into  the  vault,  and  wrought 
hard  all  night.  By  morning  I  had  dug  through  the  un- 
derpinning, gotten  out-side  of  the  jail,  and  all  that  remain- 
ed now,  was  to  break  through  the  frozen  ground,  which 
was  about  eighteen  inches,  as  I  conjectured.  I  thought 
my  operations  through  this  night  had  been  so  silent,  as  to 
prevent  a  discovery  from  any  one  ;  but  I  was  mistaken. 
The  least  noise  in  the  vault  sounded  strong  through  the 
pumps  ;  these  being  the  only  apertures  through  which 
the  sound  could  escape  ;  therefore,  its  whole  force  was 
carried  in  one  direction. 

In  the  morning,  the  jailor  took  Hinds  out  of  the  room, 
where  he  had  left  him  the  night  before,  having  put  him 
into  a  separate  room  from  Grinold,  for  fear  of  a  repetition 
of  that  chastisement  which  he  had  so  largely  tasted  the 
day  before  ;  and  by  him  received  information  that  some- 
body had  been  at  work  in  the  vault  all  night.  After  this 
information.  Hinds  was  put  back  into  the  same  room 
again,  being  a  room-mate  with  Rood. 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  jailor,  attended 
with  his  blacksmiths,  came  into  the  dungeon,  and  remov- 
ed the  prisoners  back  again  into  my  room.  They  search- 
ed the  dungeon  with  a  great  degree  of  care,  to  see  whether 
the  prisoners  had  broken  through  into  the  vault,  but  not 
finding  any  breach,  they  were  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the 
report  of  Hinds,  not  conceiving  it  possible  for  me  to  be 
t]ie  person,  owing  to  my  irons,  Hov»'ever,  after  a  while 
they  came  into  my  room,  and  searching  the  irons  around 
my  leg,  they  diiscovered  the  deception,  seeing  at  once, 
witii  what  ease  I  could  take  my  irons  off  my  leg  when  I 
wished.  '1  hey  then  searched  the  iron  bars  which  had 
been  spiked  to  the  iioor,  and  found  them  pulled  up.  They 
looked  at  me  with  a  stare  of  astonishment,  not  conceiving 
)iow  it  was  possible  for  su;:h  a  thing  to  be  effected  with 
what  tools  we  had. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  131 

The  blacksmith  retired ;  and  in  about  an  hour  returned, 
bringing  with  him  an  iron  bar  of  twice  the  magnitude  of 
the  former,  and  six  spikes,  about  twelve  inches  in  length, 
and  ragged,  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  prevent  a  bare  possi- 
bility of  their  ever  being  drawn.  This  iron  bar  he  placed 
across  the  hole,  and  with  a  heavy  sledge,  drove  in  the 
spikes,  looking  round  exultingly  on  me,  saying  "  Bur- 
roughs, if  you  get  down  here  again,  I'll  come  and  take 
your  place.**  After  he  had  driven  in  his  spikes,  and  put 
all  things  in  order,  he  came  and  examined  my  irons,  fas- 
tened them  on  again,  so  as  to  prevent  my  getting  loose,  as 
he  vainly  boasted. 

I  now  lost  all  hopes  of  liberty,  by  that  method  which  we 
had  been  pursuing,  viewing  it  impossible  ever  to  get  the 
iron  from  across  the  hole,  if  I  should  get  free  from  my 
irons  around  my  leg  ;  but  again  I  was  taught  to  admire 
the  vast  ability  of  Philips  ;  for  before  the  outer  door  of 
the  jail  was  locked,  I  was  freed  from  my  irons,  and  the 
bar  across  the  hole  was  torn  away.  This,  was  done  while 
the  jailor  was  shutting,  bolting  and  locking  the  doors  ;  so 
that  the  noise  which  we  made,  might  be  so  blended  with 
his  noise,  that  it  should  not  be  distinguished  by  the  pris- 
oners over  head,  viz.  Rood  and  Hinds,  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  lead  to  a  discoveiy.  This  had  the  desired  effect. 
Not  the  least  suspicion  was  entertained  ^-ow  operations, 
so  quick  was  Philips,  in  seeing  every  advantage  which 
opportunities  offered,  for  the  prosecution  of  our  purpose. 

However,  I  found  all  the  abilities  which  appertained  to 
Philips,  were  set  down  to  my  credit,  so  strongly  were  all 
possessed  with  the  opinion,  that  I  was  the  soul  of  every 
enterprise  of  such  a  nature.  And  from  the  efforts  which 
he  made  in  this  room,  many  were  of  the  opinion  that  I 
had  preternatural  assistance.  For,  said  they,  "  no  irons 
will  hold  him,  and  no  fortification  will  stand  against  him." 

You  will  be  curious,  sir,  I  presume,  to  learn  the  me- 
thod by  which  we  effected  such  a  surprising  feat  in  so  short' 
a  time,  as  to  liberate  me  from  irons,  and  tear  away  the  huge 
iron  bar  which  was  spiked  so  strongly  across  our  pump- 
hole.  This  I  will  give  you  a  description  of.  You  will 
recollect  that  one  end  of  ray  chain  was  fastened  to  the 


132  MEMOIRS  OF 

floor,  the  other  end  around  my  leg,  the  length  about  ten 
feet ;  and  the  ring  about  my  leg  was  flat.*  Making  the 
chain  into  a  ring  by  the  before  mentioned  process,  we  ran 
the  end  of  our  oaken  bench  into  it,  and  placed  the  ring 
which  was  around  my  leg,  under  the  bench,  and  bent  it 
down  tight  to  my  leg ;  then  turned  it  one  quarter  round 
and  bent  it  back  again.  This  we  repeated  three  or  four 
times  and  the  ring  broke.  We  immediately  after  this, 
hoisted  the  the  bolt  confining  the  chain,  by  the  same  pro- 
cess. Ai'ter  all,  we  took  up  the  pump,  and  fixed  our 
chain  around  the  iron,  on  the  pump-hole,  as  formerly,  and 
proceeded  again  according  to  the  same  plan.  I  thought 
it  a  piece  of  madness  to  think  of  drawing  these  spikes, 
and  made  observations  to  that  amount.  Philips  paid  no 
attention  to  what  I  remarked,  but  pursued  his  plan  ;  and 
when  we  all  jumped  on  to  the  bench,  to  pry  up  the  iron- 
bar,  the  heads  of  the  spikes  flew  off  in  a  moment;  the 
bar  was  torn  from  its  place,  and  the  whole  jail  trembled. 

I  now  considered  my  escape  as  certain,  having  nothing 
but  the  frozen  ground  to  break  through,  which  I  expected 
to  effect  in  the  course  of  an  hour.  Therefore,  when  night 
progressed  so  far  in  her  course,  as  to  carry  people  gener- 
ally to  their  beds,  we  all  stripped  and  went  down  into  the 
vault,  with  as  much  silence  as  possible,  that  we  might 
keep  Rood  and  Hinds  in  ignorance  of  our  operations  ;  but 
this  we  found  impossible.  We  soon  heard  them  take  off 
the  cover  from  their  pump,  and  listen  to  the  noise  in  the 
vault.  However,  as  we  soon  expected  to  make  our  es- 
cape, we  did  not  so  much  dread  their  hearing  us  at  work, 
not  expecting  they  could  give  any  information  to  the  jailor 
till  next  morning,  when  we  should  be  far  from  his  re- 
straining power. 

We  were  vigoix)Us  in  our  operations  till  we  had  broken 
the  frozen  ground,  so  as  to  discern  the  snow.  I  commu- 
nicated this  circumstance  to  W^arner,  who  was  near  me, 
and  he  imprudently,  in  the  warmth  of  his  feelings,  told 
one  near  him,  that  in  ten  minutes  we  should  be  at  liberty. 
This  he  spake  so  loud  as  to  be  heard  by  Rood  and  Hinds. 
They  hearing  this,  immediately  called  to  the  jailor,  and 
*  The  ring  was  an  inch  larg-er  in  diameter  than  my  leg. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  133 

informed  him  that  we  were  breaking  out.  The  alarm  flev/ 
rapidly  ;  people  gathered  into  the  jail-yard  with  lanterns, 
and  discovered  the  hole,  which  was  almost  large  enough 
for  a  man  to  pass  through,  whilst  others  entered  the  jail, 
and  turned  us  all  into  the  dungeon. 


CHAP.  xvn. 

**  Wake  the  lion's  loudest  roar, 

*'  Clot  his  shagg}'  mane  with  gore, 

"  Witli  flashing  fury  bid  his  eye-balls  shir.e 

"  Meek  is  liis  savage,  sullen  soul  to  thine '." 


o 


'UR  fond  expectations  of  liberty  were  again  blasted. 
We  found  ourselves  confined  in  the  dungeon,  and  two 
spies  to  watch  all  our  motions.  It  appeared  that  Fortune 
delighted  in  raising  my  hope,  in  order  to  tantalize  me  with 
disappointment.  There  was  a  strange  fatality  attending 
all  my  undertakings  !  The  most  flattering  circumstunces 
were,  in  the  end,  attended  with  effects  of  the  severest  na- 
ture. Misery  v/as  my  portion,  notwithstanding  cveiy  ef- 
fort to  the  contrary.  I  now  saw  no  way  but  that  I  must 
lay  my  account  to  wear  away  the  three  long  tedious  years, 
to  which  I  was  sentenced,  in  jail  I 

Early  the  r.ext  morning  I  was,  contrary  to  my  expecta- 
tions, taken  out  of  the  dungeon,  and  re-conveyed  into  my 
old  room,  which  was  considerably  larger  than  the  dungeon, 
and  there  saw  preparations  for  punishing  me  again  with 
the  horse-whip.  I  had  a  sharp  pointed  penknife  about  me, 
which  had  been  often  sought  for  in  vain  by  the  jailor.  I 
pulled  out  this  penknife,  and  opened  it,  and  told  the  jailor 
I  would  positively  put  him  to  death  if  he  dared  to  infiict 
that  punishment  on  me  again,  I  stood  at  this  time,  in  one 
corner  of  the  room,  where  I  could  not  be  attacked  only  on 
one  side.  The  jailor  ordered  those  with  him.  to  take  hold 
on  me,  and  secure  m.e  ;  but  none  chose  to  run  the  risk; 
for  I  had  declared  with  equal  determination,  that  the  firs*: 
who  offered  to  approach  me,  should  feel  the  weight  of  my 
arra. 


134  MEMOIRS  OF 

IMattcrs  remaining  in  tbis  situation,  the  grisly  looking 
tyrant  was  abadied  and  confounded,  not  daring  to  approach 
3Tie  himself,  to  execute  any  of  hi?  hellish  plans  ;  he  there- 
fore gave  up  the  object. 

About  this  time,  the  blacksmith  and  his  apprentices 
came  into  my  room,  with  all  my  former  load  of  irons,  to 
confine  me  as  he  formerly  had  done,  in  the  dungeon. 
Having  succeeded  so  well  with  regard  to  the  punishment 
of  Vv'hipping,  I  determined  to  try  the  same  experiment 
ngain,  and  see  whether  it  would  keep  me  out  of  irons.  I 
therefore  refused  to  have  any  chains  put  on  me.  The 
blacksmith  came  towards  me  in  a  threatening  manner, 
with  his  hammer  lifted,  as  though  he  would  strike  me  ; 
but  seeing  me  stand,  as  though  I  was  determined  to  exe- 
cute my  threat,  with  miy  penknife,  he  gave  back.  They 
hoon  left  the  irons  lying  on  my  floor,  and  all  departed  from 
the  room.  I  expected  they  were  gone  after  a  recruit,  but 
in  this  my  fears  were  disappointed. 

About  one  o'clock  the  same  day,  I  was  taken  out  of  this 
room  and  put  into  the  upper  loft  with  Grinold.  Philips 
and  the  rest,  who  v/ere  in  the  room  with  him,  were  taken 
cut  of  the  dungeon  and  put  back  into  their  former  place 
of  abode,  after  the  breach  Avas  secured.  I  believe  it  was 
effectually  secured  this  time,  for  I  never  heard  of  their 
breaking  it  again  ;  but  by  what  process  they  made  it  so 
strong  as  to  prevent  the  prisoners  from  making  another 
breach  I  do  not  know,  never  being  put  in  that  room  any 
ji-iore.  It  was  currently  reported  that  the  devil  had  as- 
sisted me,  in  my  attempts  to  break  jail.  Many  foolish 
people  would  apply  to  me  for  a  discovery  of  matters  un- 
known to  themselves;  as  things  lost,  stolen,  See.  And 
when  I  refused  to  pay  any  attention  to  their  application, 
r.Hedging  that  it  was  out  of  my  power,  they  would  look 
wisely  at  each  other,  and  observe,  "  that  I  was  not  per- 
mitted to  do  such  things,  it  being  against  the  articles  of 
my  Ieaq;ue  1" 

It  being  now  the  last  of  January,  if  I  rightly  recollect, 
news  was  brought  us,  that  all  the  prisoners,  who  were 
sentenced  to  the  house  of  correction,  were  to  be  removed 
to  Castie-Islaud,  in  the  harbor  of  Boston,  there  to  be  con- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  15i 

fined  to  hard  labor.  This  news  hud  but  little  effect  on 
my  mind,  being  as  yet  entirely  ignorant  of  the  place,  its 
situation,  the  state  of  the  prisoners  on  it,  or  the  treatment 
which  I  should  receive  there.  The  idea  of  being  again 
carried  through  the  country,  in  the  manner  I  had  former- 
ly been,  a  spectacle  to  surrounding  fools,  gave  me  most 
sensible  pdin  ;  but  whether  I  should  be  in  a  better  situa- 
tion there,  than  what  I  was  in  at  Northampton,  was  whol- 
ly unknown,  and  I  had  no  evidence,  by  which  I  could  form 
any  'conjecture. 

Early  one  morning  a  number  of  deputy-sheriffs  came 
into  the  jail,  and  bade  us  prepare  for  our  journey  to  the 
Castle.  They  chained  the  prisoners  two  together,  plac- 
ing the  chain  about  one  leg  of  each,  then  put  them  into  a 
sleigh  and  drove  off. 

When  I  came  to  breathe  a  pure  air,  and  to  conjtrast  the 
prospect  of  surrounding  objects,  with  the  gloomy  man- 
sions which  I  had  left,  you  cannot  conceive  the  ardor  of 
my  feelings  for  liberty.  Every  object  which  my  eyes  og- 
held  was  a  loud  proclaimer  of  my  miserable  state.  Oh  I 
said  I,  to  myself,  could  I  run  about  like  yonder  little  boy, 
who,  regardless  of  his  privilege,  loses  its  enjoyment ;  then 
should  I  feel  like  the  lark,  that,  escaped  from 'its  cage,  flits 
into  the  air,  and  claps  its  wings  for  joy.  I  wondered  peo- 
ple should  feel  so  indifferent  about  my  situation.  I  equal- 
ly wondered  at  their  not  skipping  w'ith  joy,  because  tne-/ 
were  at  liberty  themselves.  I  thought  if  they  had  known 
the  feelings  of  my  heart,  ihey  would  have  arisen  to  a  man 
and  granted  me  that  liberty  which  my  heart  so  ardently 
panted  after.  It  appeared  to  me  sometimes  that  the  sen- 
sations of  my  m.ind  must  be  apparent  to  them,  and  that 
under  this  circumstance,  they  would  aciuaiiy  grant  me  re- 
lief. Yet  in  the  bitterness  of  my  soul,  I  i  jund  these  ideaj 
all  chimerical.  Cert  Jnly,  said'l,  did  those  verv  charac- 
ters, who  were  instrumental  in  placing  me  in  this  stute  of 
confinement,  feeiingly  know  my  whole  hcc.rt,  tiiey  co^Id 
not  resist  the  language  of  nature  so  far  as  not  to  wi^h  mo 
at  liberty.  I  know  that  even  the  Peihamites  theniseives 
would  have  cried,  his  punishment  is  enough — hie  sm:;.  - 
in^s  are  equal  to  hh  crimes.     Then  why  will  yc   ■ 


ISO  :m£M0irs  of 

nient  me  ?  Vv^hy  vrill  yon  g-all  me  ally  longer  \vith  the 
chain  of  slavery  r  The  answer  is,  the  course  of  law  has 
brought  you  to  this,  and  we  cannot  reverse  its  mandate. 
But,  said  I,  what  is  law,  but  the  voice  of  the  people  ?  And 
Avhat  is  the  voice  of  the  people  but  the  language  of  the 
heart  ?  Does  not  everj'  day's  experience  teach  us,  that 
cruel  and  severe  punishments  serve  to  harden,  rather  than 
reform  the  vicious?  Ought  we  not  to  consider  ourselves 
us  members  of  one  and  the  same  family,  and  to  adopt 
those  rules  and  regulations  among  ourselves,  as  a  society, 
\  hich  will  in  their  operation,  be  congenial  with  such  an 
!ea  r  Surely,  this  is  the  idea  which  the  language  of  na- 
ture strongly  inculcates  upon  our  minds.  Should  we  not 
s>l;udder  with  horror,  if  a  father  treated  his  child,  as  the 
laws  of  society  treat  each  other  ?  When  do  we  hear  of  an 
iinnaiur.*!  parent  chaining  his  child,  confining  him  from 
::e  enjoyment  ot  liberty,  and  placing  him  in  such  a  situa- 
.;ii,  as  to  make  him  an  object  of  contempt  and  scoff  to 
li.c  rest  of  his  children,  without  feeling  that  indignation  in 
cur  bosoms,  which  such  an  unnatural  action  merits  ?  Be- 
t-.veen  parents  and  children,  the  voice  of  nature  is  heard  in 
its  simple  state,  without  being  perverted  by  the  sophistry 
of  those,  wdio  are  blind  to  the  laws  which  bind  mankind 
together  as  brethren  of  the  same  family.  Is  there  not  a 
spirit  of  nobleness  in  man  which  scorns  the  lash  of  tyran- 
i.y,  in  whatever  shape  it  appears,  which  manifests  all  the 
lo^e  and  partiality  of  children,  towards  those  law's,  which 
discover  tlie  care  and  protection  of  a  parent  towards  them  ? 
"rievv  the  conduct  of  the  parent  of  nature  towards  his  chil- 
dren I  "  He  causes  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the 
good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust."  He 
grants  his  parental  kindness  to  all  his  children  without  dis- 
linction,  and  watches  over  the  wants  of  the  smallest  part 
of  the  works  of  his  hands.  Is  his  example  worthy  of  im- 
itation, or  are  we  wiser  than  our  Maker  ?  I  have  often 
read  with  the  highest  delight  a  fable  invented  by  Dr.  Frank- 
lin, to  shew,  in  a  familiar  manner,  the  arrogance  of  man, 
in  his  attempts  to  place  his  oAvn  wisdom  above  that  of  De- 
ity. The  doctor  represents  Abraham  as  grossly  abusing 
a  stranger,  whom  he  had  invited  into  his  tent,  because  he 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  KT 

v.as  an  idolater,  and  did  not  worship  God  according  to  his 
method.  The  fable  states,  that  at  midnight,  God  called 
unto  Abraham  and  inquired  for  the  stranger  ;  Abraham  re- 
capitulated his  treatment  of  him,  which  was  done,  said  he, 
because  he  worshipped  not  thee.  God  took  occ.sion, 
from  this,  to  shew  Abraham  the  folly  of  his  reasonintr  ;  for, 
said  he,  "  have  I  nourished  and  cherished  this  man  ninety 
and  nine  years,  notwithstanding  his  rebellion  against  me, 
and  could  not  thou,  who  art  thyself  a  sinner,  bear  with  him 
one  night:" 

As  we  travelled  through  the  country,  I  again  found  the 
curiosity  of  people  had  brought  them  together  in  many 
places  where  we  stopped  ;  there  a  philosophic  mind  would 
have  found  ample  scope  for  contemplating  the  human 
character.  We  cannot  discern  the  operation  of  the  hu- 
man heart  in  man,  until  we  are  in  such  a  situation,  as  to 
prevent  his  wearing  a  disguise.  This  situation  must  be 
veiy  abject,  and  then  we  become  of  so  little  consequence 
in  society,  that  the  notice  of  man  is  removed  from  us, 
and  he  acts  in  our  presence  without  disguise  ;  viewing 
our  approbiition  or  disapprobation  as  immaterial  to  his 
prosperity.  Under  such  a  situation,  the  human  character 
becomes  really  known,  and  he  who  has  ability  with  this 
knowledge  to  learn  such  regulations  as  will  tend,  in  their 
operation,  to  promote  the  highest  good  of  society,  is  call- 
ed upon  by  that  duty  which  man  owes  to  man,  to  assert  the 
cause  of  truth,  with  regard  to  these  important  points. 

Under  this  view  of  matters,  I  have  clearly  stated  my 
sentiments  to  you  upon  these  subjects.  I  know  you  to  be 
a  man  of  so  much  observation  as  to  know,  that  severe  laws 
have  the  most  fatal  tendency,  not  onJy  upon  the  criminal 
part  of  society,  but  likev/ise  upon  every  member.  Evcy 
thing  which  tends  to  destroy  the  principles  of  humanitv, 
serves  to  eradicate  from  the  human  breast  that  benevo- 
lence and  compassion  towards  mankind,  which  is  the  bond 
of  perfection  in  society. 

When  we  see  the  futher  of  a  family  conducting  with 
mildness  towards  his  children,  treating  them  ail  as  equal 
members  of  his  household,  and  never  permitting  the  ebu- 
litions  of  wrath  rmd  malignity  to  oncrctc  to'ATrds  a^iv  ;  at 

M   ?  '  ^ 


13S  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  same  time,  we  see  them  inheriting  their  father's  meek- 
ness and  compassion.  Benevolence  marks  their  ways,  and 
harmony  brightens  all  their  paths.  But  on  the  contrary, 
where  we  sec  the  parent  becomes  the  tyrant,  punishing 
the  faults  of  his  children  with  the  unrelenting  hand  of  rigor, 
executing  judgment  unmingled  with  mercy,  we  see  a 
family  possessing  the  feelings  of  cruelty,  lost  to  the  god- 
like principle  of  mercy,  at  war  with  themselves,  and  gov- 
erned by  those  ferocious  feelings  which  disturb  the  tran- 
quility of  mankind.  The  same  principles  operate  upon 
the  great  family  of  mankind.  Where  we  find  severe  laws 
operating  among  a  people,  or  mild  laws  executed  in  a  cru- 
el manner,  we  see  the  influence  of  this,  upon  the  manners 
of  the  people,  to  be  very  great.  It  gradually  roots  out  the 
feelings  of  benevolence  and  compassion,  and  in  their  room, 
implants  the  sentiments  of  cruelty  and  severity. 

The  body  of  mankind^can  judge  of  things  only  in  a  very 
partial  manner.  They  are  taught,  in  the  first  place,  to  re- 
vere the  laws  ;  they  are  taught,  in  the  second  place,  to  be- 
lieve that  the  laws  are  founded  in  justice  :  from  this  con- 
sideration, they  are  led  to  treat  others  as  they  see  the  law 
treats  its  subjects ;  to  cherish  the  same  spirit  which  they 
see  manifested  in  the  execution  of  the  laws  :  therefore,  if 
the  lav/,  or  the  mode  of  executing  it,  is  sevei^e  and  cruel, 
they  vviil  of  consequence  imbibe  a  spirit  of  severity  and 
cruelty. 

Having  treated  these  matters  so  largely  in  our  conver- 
sation, it  will  be  needless  for  me  to  say  more  on  the  sub- 
ject. I  believe  we  ai'e  both  agreed  in  this  sentiment,  viz. 
that  the  laws  i.nd  the  manner  of  their  execution,  do  ulti- 
mately form  the  manners  and  morals  of  a  people  ;  and  the 
best  criterion  to  form  an  estimate  of  the  laws  and  regula- 
tions of  a  people  by,  is  theii'  manners  and  morals. 

On  tlie  first  day  of  our  journey  towards  the  Castle,  we 
dined  at  Btlchertown.  Here  I  found  an  assemblage  of 
many  characters.  Some  were  led  here  by  an  anxious  de- 
sire of  seeing  me  perfonn  some  feats  of  dexterity  in  elud- 
ing my  guard,  concluding  that  I  should  not  remain  with 
them  longer  than  to  arrive  at  this  tavern.  Whether  they 
e.ipccted  I  ehould  evaporate  in  a  flash  of  fire,  or  disappear 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  139 

in  a  cioud  of  smoke  ;  or  whether  they  thought  I  should, 
Faustus  like,  fix  my  guards,  like  pillars  of  stone,  immov- 
ably, to  some  spot,  until  I  could  leisurely  walk  away,  I  do 
not  know ;  but  it  was  apparent  that  something  they  ex- 
pected would  be  done.  The  least  movement  I  made,  their 
eyes  were  upon  me ;  the  least  word  I  spoke,  their  ears 
were  open,  and  their  attention  alive.  When  I  moved, 
they  made  way  for  me,  as  though  destruction  would  fall 
upon  tliem  if  they  obstructed  my  passage.  It  gave  me 
pain  to  see  the  apparent  fear  that  many  manifested  upon 
this  occasion.  I  endeavored  to  persuade  them  that  their 
fears  were  groundless,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  Some  I 
found  took  this  opportunity  of  shewing  their  courage  to 
the  world,  by  letting  the  by-standers  see,  they  were  not 
afraid  to  insult  me.  One  man  even  ran  his  fist  into  my 
face,  making  his  boast  that  he  would  venture  me,  as  great 
a  man  as  I  was,  but  took  very  good  care  to  keep  so  far  dis- 
tant from  me  that  I  could  not  reach  him,  being  chained 
to  Glazier  Wheeler,  so  that  I  could  not  move  only  when 
he  moved ;  and  the  old  man  having  the  infirmities  of  age 
upon  him,  could  only  move  with  a  degree  of  moderation. 
While  the  scoundrel  continued  his  insults,  one  of  the 
sheriffs  came  into  the  room,  I  think  his  liame  was  White, 
and  observing  the  unprovoked  abuse,  struck  the  villain 
across  the  head,  with  the  hilt  of  a  hanger,  and  felled  him 
to  the  floor.  This  spoiled  the  fun  of  this  courageous  fel- 
low. 

After  dinner  was  over,  the  landlady  came  to  the  high 
sherifi",  and  ii^kformedhim  that  one  of  her  silver  spoons  was 
missing,  and  she  said  it  was  impossible  for  any  one  to  get 
it  out  of  her  cupboard,  which  had  not  been  unlocked,  unless 
it  was  Burroughs  ;  therefore,  the  high-sheriff  set  about 
searching  me  for  a  silver  spoon,  stolen  out  of  a  room,  in 
which  it  was  known  I  had  never  been ;  but  before  the  search 
was  over,  the  good  lady  informed  him  that  tlie  spoon  was 
found. 

We  soon  moved  from  this  and  arrived  that  night  at 
Bix>okfield.  Here  I  found  a  little  respite  from  that  per- 
petual attention  to  the  various  whims,  false  opinion,  and 
strange  ide;^s,  which  people  had  formed  of  my  character. 


110  MEMOIRS  OF 

But  &90n  here  I  was  accosted  by  a  grave  looking  old  ge. 
tie  man  smoking-  his  pipe  in  the  corner.  I  had  observed 
him  sometime,  sitting  in  silence,  bur  now  and  then  glanc- 
ing his  eye  upon  me  ;  at  length,  taking  his  pipe  leisurely 
from  his  mouth,  spiiting  carefully  in  the  fire,  and_adjust- 
ing  his  looks  with  some  precision,  he  turned  and  address- 
ed me  as  follows  :  "  Burroughs,  I  have  had  a  desire  to  see 
you,  for  some  time  ;  1  have  heard  much  of  you.  I  know 
your  uncle  Colonel  Davis,  and  had  he  given  ear  to  my  ad- 
vice, he  would  have  been  a  great  gainer  ;  but  he  did  not, 
and  the  time  is  now  passed  for  him  to  profit  by  his  dear 
bought  experience  ;•  however,  I  can  give  you  advice, 
which  you  will  find  to  your  advantage,  should  you  be  en- 
dovred  with  wisdom  to  follow  it.  Your  extraordinary  con- 
duct has  made  mankind  form  very  strange  conjectures 
concerning;  you,  and  many  throw  a  great  degree  of  blame 
upon  your  conduct ;  but  as  for  myself,  I  cannot  say  I  think 
your  crimes  unpardonable,  or  indeed  very  heinous,  ex- 
cepting one,  and  that  was  the  flagrant  transgression  of  the 
principles  of  gratitude  towards  the  clergyman,  whose 
clothes  and  watch  you  stole." 

Here  I  interrupted  the  orator,  in  the  rriidst  of  his  dis- 
course, by  my  ardor  to  set  him  right  in  his  mistaken  opin- 
ion of  this  business  ;  I  told  him  the  story  of  my  stealing  a 
watch  and  suit  of  clothes  from  a  clergyman  was  entirely 
unfounded,  as  no  such  circumstance  had  happened  to  any 
clergyman  in  this  country  ;  that  this  was  an  old  anecdote, 
new  vamped  and  handed  to  the  world  as  a  modern  occur- 
rence, the  opprobrium  of  which  a  good  natured  populace 
>yere  willing  to  fix  on  me. 

He  looked  me  full  in  the  face,  with  a  sarcastic  sneer, 
pulled  a  newspaper  out  of  his  pocket,  and  turned  me  to  a 
paragraph  relating  that  I  was  the  person,  who  had  stolen 
the  clothes,  watch^  Sec.  After  I  had  read  the  paragraph, 
the  old  gentleman  said,  "  Now  Mr.  Burroughs  I  hope 
you  will  not  undertake  to  correct  my  judgment  again. 
When  I  form  an  opinion,  it  is  not  on  slight  evidence,  there- 
fore, since  you  have  set  up  your  opinion  in  opposition  to 
mine,  1  shall  let  you  pursue  it ;  you  may  repent  v/hen  it 
is  too  late.'"'     He  then  turned  from  me,  put  his  pipe  iny.^ 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  141 

his  mouth,  and  remained  silent  the  rest  of  the  cv«ining, 
notwithstanding  all  my  endeavors  for  a  further  explana- 
tion upon  this  business. 

The  next  day  we  proceeded  on  our  journey.  In  the 
course  of  this  day,  I  could  have  made  my  escape,  if  I  had 
been  chained  to  any  body  but  Glazier  Wheeler.  I  went 
out  of  the  house  where  we  stopped  to  dine,  accompanied 
by  only  one  person,  and  he,  being  impatient  at  staying  out 
in  the  cold,  went  into  the  house,  and  we  remained  by  our- 
selveaas  much  as  half  an  hour.  I  proposed  our  escape 
to  Wheeler  ;  but  the  severity  of  the  weather,  the  infirmi- 
ties of  age,  and  the  uncertainty  of  success,  operated  so 
strongly  on  his  mind,  as  to  deter  him  from  concurring  in 
my  proposal.  We  returned,  and  I  flattered  myself,  that 
this  apparent  instance  of  my  peaceably  remaining  confin- 
ed, when  I  had  an  opportunity  of  making,  at  least,  a  trial 
for  escaping,  would  m.ake  my  keepers  more  remiss  in 
guarding  me  ;  but  in  this  I  was  disappointed.  I  found  the 
guard  were  ail  in  commotion,  when  we  went  into  the  house, 
at  our  being  left  alone  so  long  ;  and  tliey  took  special  care 
never  to  fall  into  the  same  error  again. 

In  the  course  of  this  day,  we  made  a  stage  at  a  public 
house  v/here  I  found  a  number  of  the  Pelhamites.  They 
had  been  to  Boston  and  were  on  their  return.  They  were 
affected  at  seeing  my  condition  !  They  dropped  the  tear 
of  compassion  1  They  pitied  me  1  They  offered  me,  as  a 
token  of  their  benevolent  feelings,  as  much  punch  as  I 
would  drink.  Whether  some  of  their  more  benevolent 
feelings  on  the  present  occasion,  did  not  proceed  from  the 
efficacy  of  the  punch,  w  hich  they  themselves  had  drunk- 
en, is  a  question  I  shall  by  no  means  undertake  to  answer. 

In  the  course  of  this  day's  journey,  we  met  with  Mr. 
Baldwin,  minister  of  Palmer,  of  whom  mention  has  already 
been  made.  The  good  old  gentleman  was  truly  affected  : 
and,  instead  of  reflections,  which  I  expected,  he  lamented 
my  untimely  fall  ;  wished  I  might  meet  with  some  alle- 
viating circumstance  in  my  sentence,  before  the  expira- 
tion of  my  confinement. 

We  arrived  at  Little  Cambridge,  and  tarried  all  night. 
The  house  where  we  put  up  was  filled  with  people.     I 


142  MEMOIRS  OF 

found  the  good  lady  of  the  house  giving  hev  daughters  a 
lecture  on  the  propriety  of  keeping  out  of  the  room,  where 
the  prisoners  were.  But,  as  these  young  females  pos- 
sessed the  curiosity  natural  to  their  sex,  they  endeavored 
to  persuade  their  ma'am  that  the  danger  which  she  fear- 
ed, was  more  in  her  fancy  than  reality.  The  prudent 
mother,  however,  cut  her  daughters  short  in  their  argu- 
ments, by  telling  them.,  in  the  most  peremptory  manner, 
that  they  should  not  go  into  the  room  where  Burroughs 
was ;  for  said  she,  '•  he  has  a  faculty  to  lead  any  body 
astray  :  why,  there's  Pelham  now,  w  here  he  preached — 
he  undertook  to  preach  to  people,  that  it  was  lawful  for 
him  to  lie  with  all  the  women  in  town,  and  he  carried  his 
point  so  far,  as  to  lie  witii  every  man's  wife  ;  and  then  ran 
away  and  left  them  ;  but  if  he  should  offer  such  a  thing  to 
me,  I'd  shev/  him  he  wan't  in  Pelham." 

After  this  harrangue  of  the  careful  mother,  her  conduct 
through  the  remainder  of  the  evening  did  not  manifest  so 
great  a  fear  on  her  own  account,  as  what  she  had  shown  on 
account  of  her  daughters;  but  whether  she  meant  to  give 
me  an  opportunity  of  making  such  proposals,  as  on  her 
part  v.ould  lead  to  a  discovery  of  her  impregnable  chasti- 
ty, or  whether  her  attention  was  the  pure  effect  of  hu- 
manity, I  shall  not  undertake  to  tell,  not  being  in  a  capa- 
city to  give  information  upon  that  subject,  having  made  no 
advances  tov/ards  her  through  the  course  of  a  long  tedi- 
ous evening. 

A  sober  fiiced  clergyman  entered  into  conversation  with 
me  upon  ihe  events  of  my  life.  I  found  him  entertaining 
ail  the  acviir.ony  attached  to  offended  dignity.  Says  he, 
"  what  an  enormous  ci  imc  you  have  been  guilty  of,  by 
bringing  an  irreparable  disgrace  upon  the  order  of  clergy, 
in  assuming  that  character  with  all  your  vile  hypocrisy 
about  you  ;  und  as  though  that  was  too  little,  you  prepos- 
terously exhibited  the  works  of  others  and  not  your  own. 
You  have  taken  tlie  most  direct  measures  to  overiurn  all 
order  in  civil  and  religious  societies,  by  makmg  the  char- 
acter of  a  clergyman  appear  in  a  ludicrous  point  of  view 
to  the  world  ;  a  character,  of  all  others,  which  ought  to  be 
held  most  sacred  :  and  which,  of  all  others,  has  the  great= 
est  influence  to  the  good  order  of  society.'* 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  I4i. 

My  answer  to  the  clergyman  was  to  this  effect.  "  See- 
ing-, sir,  that  you  are  professedly  the  ambassador  and  rep- 
resentative of  him,  who  has  commanded  us,  "  in  lowli- 
ness of  mind  to  esteem  others  better  than  ourselves ;" 
who  was  despised  and  rejected  of  mankind  ;  who  was  set 
at  nought  by  the  rulers  ;  and  declared  that  his  kingdom 
was  not  of  this  world  :  I  say,  sir,  that  seeing  your  dignity 
in  this  character  is  encroached  upon  by  my  conduct,  I  feel 
most  heartily  sorry  for  touching  your  highness  in  this  re- 
spect.*' 

The  clergyman  was  stung  with  this  reply,  and  retorted, 
that,  "  I  might  find  that  the  government  would  teach  me 
how  to  carry  myself  to  my  superiors.  After  I  had  been 
kept  to  hard  labor  on  the  Castle  two  or  three  years,  my 
courage  would  be  cooled,  and  my  manners  mended,"  &c. 

We  arrived  at  Boston  the  next  day,  about  1 1  o'clock  ; 
stopped  and  dined  at  the  sign  of  the  Lamb.  I  found  ma- 
ny of  my  former  acquaintance  now  shunned  me,  as  though 
1  carried  some  pestilential  disorder  about  me.  One  in  a 
particular  manner,  who  was  a  class-mate  of  mine  in  col- 
lege; coming  in  sight  of  the  sleigh,  in  which  the  prison- 
ers v/ere  conveyed,  and  discerning  me  in  the  sleigh,  stop- 
ped short ;  ran  into  a  shop  contiguous,  and  viewed  me 
through  the  window  with  great  attention. 

After  dinner,  we  were  taken  to  the  commissary's  store, 
who  provided  for  the  Castle,  and  all  the  prisoners,  except- 
ing myself,  received  their  clothes,  which  consisted  of  a 
parti-coloured  suit  ;  I  was  entirely  willing  to  be  excused 
from  receiving  this  bounty  from  the  state. 

After  the  clothing  had  been  delivered,  we  were  taken 
to  Long  Wharf,  put  on  board  a  small  sail -boat,  and  left  the 
main  land  for  the  island,  on  which  the  Castle  stood.  As 
we  put  off  from  the  wharf,  the  people  standing  on  this, 
and  the  neighboring  wharves,  gave  three  cheers,  declara- 
tive of  their  satisfaction  in  our  leaving  them  for  a  state  of 
confinement.  We  returned  three  cheers  immediately 
after  ;  endeavoring  to  retort  their  insult,  by  letting  them 
miderstand  that  we  were  also  glad  to  leave  them,  even  for 
a  state  of  confinement. 


144  MEMOIRS  OF 

We  soon  arrived  on  the  island,  were  conveyed  into  the 
Castle,  our  irons  taken  off,  and  we  left  to  view  the  situa- 
tion in  which  we  were  confined. 

The  island  is  situated  three  miles  below  the  town  of 
Boston,  its  figure  being  nearly  circular,  containing  eigh- 
teen or  twenty  acres  of  land.  The  main  channel  of  the 
river  runs  on  the  east  side  of  this  island,  very  near  the 
shore,  and  not  wider  than  would  be  sufficient  for  two  ves- 
sels to  sail  up  a-breast ;  of  course,  the  east  side  of  the  isl- 
and is  much  the  strongest  fortified.  A  platform  extends 
the  greater  part  of  the  east  side,  on  which  are  mounted 
cannon,  twenty-four  and  thirty-two  pounders.  This  plat- 
form is  nearly  the  height  of  the  island.  Nearly  on  a  lev- 
el with  the  Avater,  at  full  tide,  is  a  place  where  another 
tier  of  cannon  were  placed,  during  the  time  in  which  the 
British  had  possession  of  it ;  but  destroyed  by  them  and 
never  since  rebuilt.  The  remaining  part  of  the  island  is 
but  very  indifferently  guarded  by  fortifications.* 
i  The  buildings,  when  1  came  to  this  island,  were  the  gov- 
ernor's house,  standing  upon  the  most  elevated  spot  on  the 
island,  under  which  was  what  was  called  the  bomb-proof, 
in  which  we  were  confined  ;  a  stone  magazine,  barracks 
for  the  officers  and  soldiers,  and  a  blacksmith's  shop. 

On  this  island  I  found  a  company  of  fifty  soldiers,  com- 
manded immediately  by  three  officers,  viz.  In  the  first 
place,  Lieutenant  Perkins,  formerly  holding  the  title  of 
Major  in  the  continental  army.  Secondly,  Lieut-  Treat ; 
and  thirdly,  Burbeck,  holding  an  Ensign's  commission,  if 
I  mistake  not,  and  doing  the  duty  of  gunner.  The  lieuten- 
ant-governor ot  the  state  was  Captain  of  the  company. 

When  I  first  came  on  to  this  island,  there  were  in  all  only 
sixteen  prisoners.  The  principal  part  of  them  were  kept 
at  work  in  the  blacksmith's  shop.  The  remainder  did  lit- 
tle or  nothing.  Our  provision  was  one  pound  of  bread  and 
three  fourths  of  a  pound  of  meat  per  day. 

The  officers  who  were  in  commission  here,  were  of  the 
follov/ing  description,  viz.  First,  Major  Perkins,  a  man 
of  about  six  feet  high,  well  proportioned,  an  J  strong  built ; 
possessed  with  care,  fidelity,  and  great  attention  to  liis  du- 

*  The  present  state  of  tliis  island  is  very  different. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  U^ 

iv,  as  a  military  character.  He  Mas  a  man  of  sentiment 
end  feeling.  His  courage  was  unimpeachable,  having  tried 
it  myself  as  thoroughly  as  \Tas  necessary  to  learn  that  cir- 
cumstance. Notwithstanding  his  personal  courage,  he 
stood  in  such  fear  of  his  superiors  in  society,  that  he  could 
not  always  maintain  such  a  state  of  independency  as  to 
act  himself.  His  military  education  had  taught  him  obe- 
dience to  his  superiors,  and  he  now  maintained  that  prin- 
ciple with  a  degree  of  mechanical  exactness.  Major  Per- 
kins had  a  family  living  on  the  island  with  him.  This 
family  consisted  of  Mrs.  Perkins,  whose  amiable  and  com- 
passionate conduct  has  left  the  most  grateful  feelings  in 
my  heart,  and  a  number  of  children,  how  many  I  do  nut 
recollect. 

Lieutenant  Treat  was  a  man  about  five  feet  ten  inches 
In  height,  trim  built,  and  slender  ;  more  fond  of  appear- 
ing in  the  fashion,  with  regard  to  his  dress,  the  cock  of 
his  hat,  &c.  than  he  was  to  rtiise  the  garrison  to  the  high- 
est pitch  of  military  fame.  There  was  nothing  very  pos- 
itive in  his  character.  He  was  by  no  means  a  bad  man, 
and  as  for  his  goodness,  it  did  not  appear  with  such  eclat 
as  to  place  him  in  a  very  conspicuous  situation  in  society. 

Ensign  Burbeck  may  l>e  described  by  comparing  him 
to  a  petulant  boy,  of  about  fourteen  years  old,  who  had 
never  been  tauglit  or  restrained  by  parental  authority. 
He  was  more  fond  of  his  dogs  than  of  any  other  society  ; 
playing  with  them  by  the  day  together. 

Immediately  after  my  confinement  on  this  island,  I  be- 
gan to  look  about,  to  see  whether  a  possibility  for  escaping 
remained,  i  viewed  the  building  in  which  I  was  confin- 
ed. It  was  made  of  brick,  the  walls  of  which  were  five 
feet  thick,  laid  in  cement,  which  v*as  much  harder  than 
the  brick  themselves.  I  searched  every  corner  for  a 
spot  upon  which  I  could  work  without  detection,  our  room 
being  searched  every  day,  to  see  Avhether  the  prisoner* 
had  made  any  attempt  to  break  away.  I  at  length  hit  up- 
on a  place.  1  here  was  a  chimney  at  one  end  of  the  room, 
grated  in  a  very  strong  manner,  about  t%yelve  feet  above 
its  funnel,  which  was  sufficiently  large  for  a  man  to  go  up. 
.\bout,three  feet  above  the  mantle-piece  of  this  fire-place, 


146  MEMOIRS  OF 

I  concluded  to  begin  my  operation.  Here  I  could  v.ork* 
and  not  have  my  labors  discovered,  unless  very  critical 
search  was  made  up  the  chimney.  I  had  not  been  at 
^vo^k  long  before  I  had  made  a  beginning  of  a  hole  suffi- 
ciently large  to  crawl  through  ;  I  then  took  a  board,  and 
blacking  it  like  the  chimney-back,  made  it  of  the  proper 
size,  and  put  it  into  the  hole,  so  that  the  strictest  search 
could  produce  no  discovery.  The  prisoners  in  the  room 
v.ith  me  were  seven  in  number.  These  prisoners  Mere 
all  turned  out  to  work  about  sun-rise,  when  the  doors  of 
the  prison  were  again  shut,  and  not  opened  until  12  o'clock, 
when  the  prisoners  came  fi'om  work,  and  continued  half 
an  hour  ;  they  were  then  taken  back  again  to  work,  and 
there  remained  until  sunset.  Therefore,  I  had  as  much 
as  sixteen  hours  in  the  twenty-four,  in  which  I  could  work 
upon  this  brick  wall,  which  work  I  continued,  ^ith  the 
most  unremitting  attention. 

The  Idbor  was  incredible  !  I  could,  in  the  first  place, 
work  only  with  a  large  nail,  rubbing  away  the  brick  grad- 
Vially.  not  daring  to  make  the  least  noise,  lest  the  sentries, 
wl.o  stood  round  the  piison,  should  overhear  me  at  work, 
and  thereby  become  discovered.  One  night  I  i-ubbcd  the 
brick  so  hard,  as  to  be  overheard  by  the  sentry,  standing 
on  the  other  side  ofthev>'all.  The  alarm  was  immedi- 
ately given,  and  the  guard  and  officers  rushed  into  the 
room  to  detect,  us  m  our  operations.  Fortunately,  I  over- 
heard the  sentr)"  tell  the  sergeant  of  the  guard,  that  Bur- 
roughs vfas  playing  the  devil  in  the  jail.  The  sergeant 
Vein  to  inform  the  officers,  and  I  had  but  just  time  to  put 
ir.y  board  iri  its  place,  and  set  down  to  greasing  my  shoes, 
when  the  officers  entered,  and  with  a  great  degree  of 
sternness,  inquired  where  I  had  been  at  work  ?  I  told  them 
that  I  hod  been  rubbing  some  hard  soot  off  the  chimney 
and  grhiding  it  fine  to  mix  with  the  grease,  and  put  on  to 
iny  shoes.  They  laughed  at  my  nicety  about  my  shoes, 
that  I  should  wish  for  tiieek  shining  shoes  in  this  situa- 
tion. M:.jor  Perkins  knowing  my  inattentiveness  to  dress, 
could  not  so  readily  believe  that  bldcking  my  shoes  was 
the  orjiy  object  in  view  ;  he  therefore  made  a  very  strict 
search  for  some  other  matter,  which  should  account  (qv 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  u: 

the  noise  the  sentry  hac^  heard  :  but,  after  a  fruitless  pur- 
suit of  such  an  object,  they  e^ave  over  their  search,  con- 
cluding that  one  among  the  thousand  strange  whims 
which  marked  my  character,  had  prompted  me  to  set 
about  blacking  my  shoes,  at  that  time. 

After  they  were  gone,  I  felt  as  strong  a  disposition  to 
laugh  at  them,  for  the  deception  under  which  they  were 
laboring,  as  they  did  whilst  present  to  laugh  at  me,  for 
the  whim  of  greasing  and  blacking  my  shoes.  This  tem- 
porary check  was  of  the  utmost  importance  in  my  further* 
prosecution  of  this  business.  It  made  me  more  careful 
for  the  future,  not  to  pursue  my  labors  with  too  much  im- 
patient impetuosity,  a  failing  I  ever  was  subject  to. 

The  prisoners  in  the  room  were  merry  on  the  occasion 
of  my  turning  the  suspicion  of  the  officers  so  entirely  from 
the  real  object  to  another  very  foreign  from  it.  They 
thought  it  a  manifestation  of  ability.  In  fine,  I  had  gain- 
ed such  an  ascendency  over  the  prisoners,  that  they  im- 
plicitly gave  up  to  my  opinion  in  all  our  little  matters  :  and 
more  particularly,  when  any  contention  arose  amon^ 
them,  I  generally  succeeded  in  amicably  terminating  the 
difficulty  without  their  proceeding  to  blows. 

My  conduct  towards  all,  I  determined  should  be  mark- 
ed with  the  strictest  impartiality.  I  not  only  satisfied  my 
own  mind  in  the  business,  but  likewise  took  the  greatest 
pains  to  shew  them,  that  I  meant  to  be  an  impartial  friend 
towards  all  parties.  When  they  fell  into  disputes  and 
bickerings,  I  would  address  them  to  the  following  pur- 
port, viz.  "  Gentlemen,"  (even  the  convicts  v/ere  fond 
of  good  words,  and  would  listen  when  I  called  them  gen- 
tlemen much  sooner  than-  when  I  addressed  them  by  a 
less  elevated  epithet)  "  our  situation  you  are  all  sensible 
is  very  miserable  ;  do  the  best  we  can,  it  v/ill  not  be  tol- 
erable ;  but  when,  in  addition  to  slavery,  we  render  our 
society  hateful  and  irksome  to  each  other,  by  faliing  into 
broils  and  v.'rangles,  it  then  becomes  a  hell  indeed,  and 
answers  the  strongest  wish  of  our  inveterate  foes.  I  know 
there  are  many  circumstances  calculated  to  harrass  and 
sour  your  minds  ;  to  render  you  peevish  and  petulant  ;  to 
n:..kc  you  at  vaiiance  vrith  the  v/hole   race  of  mankind  : 


us  MEMOIRS  OF 

but  to  indulge  these  feelings  onl)'-  renders  your  case  worse 
rather  than  better ;  it  gratiaes  youi^  enemies  and  serves 
every  purpose  which  they  could  desire ;  thereforOf  as 
wise  men,  I  expect  you  will  act  with  prudence,  with  re- 
gard to  your  own  comfort  and  to  the  views  of  those  who 
wish  you  ill."  Even  the  convicts  had  reason  sufficient  to 
hear  these  arguments  with  attention,  and  they  generally 
practiced  according  to  this  direction  ;  so  strong  is  that 
principle  in  all  men  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  friendship. 

I  determined  to  be  more  careful  in  prosecuting  my  la- 
bor on  the  wall  lor  the  future,  and  check  that  impatience 
which  often  hurried  me  on  beyond  the  dictates  of  pru- 
dence. I  now  wrought  with  the  greatest  caution,  and 
ii^ade  slow  but  sure  advances.  After  1  had  been  employ- 
ed in  this  business  about  a  week,  I  found  I  could  work  to 
greater  advantage  if  I  had  a  small  iron  crow  ;  therefore, 
I  ordered  one  of  the  prisoners,  who  wrought  in  the  shop, 
to  make  me  one  aboul  a  foot  long,  and  sharp  at  one  end. 
This  he  found  an  opportunity  to  do,  undiscovered  by  the 
overseer,  and  brought  it  to  me.  I  found  tliat  with  this 
crovv^  I  could  pry  off  half  a  brick  at  a  time  without  the 
least  noise,  after  I  had  worn  a  hole  with  my  nail,  suffi- 
ciently large  to  thrust  in  my  ciow.  The  rubbish  which 
I  took  out  of  the  wall  I  put  every  night  into  a  tub,  stand- 
ing in  our  room  for  necessary  occasions,  and  this  was  emp- 
tied by  one  of  the  prisoners  every  morning  into  the  water. 

After  I  Ivdd  labored  with  unceasing  assiduity  for  two 
months,  I  found  one  night,  after  I  had  pried  away  a  brick, 
that  I  could  run  my  arm  out  of  the  prison  into  the  open 
air.  This  circumstance  made  my  heart  leap  with  joy. 
After  such  a  length  of  labor,  to  find  my  toils  crowned  with 
apparent  success,  gave  me  atone  of  pleasure  of  which  you 
Can  huve  no  idea. 

Upon  examiiiation,  I  found  the  breach  through  the  wall 
^ .  s  just  below  a  covered  way,  so  that  it  would  remain  un- 
seen in  tiie  day  ii:!ic,  uniess  discovered  by  some  accident. 
I  had  nicasured  the  height  of  the  covered  way  by  a  geo- 
metric.d  operation,  not  being  permitted  to  come  near  it : 
and  this  was  done  with  an  instrument  made  by  my  pen- 
knife ;  that  penknife  which  had  done  me  such  excellent 
bervice  in  Northampton  jail. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  149 

\Vhen  the  prisoners  saw  my  measurement  was  exact, 
their  idea  of  my  proibund  knowledge  was  greatly  raised  ; 
and  they  appeared  to  entertain  the  most  sanguine  assur- 
ance, that  their  li;:)erty  was  certain  when  their  epilations 
were  directed  under  my  auspices. 

After  I  had  found  the  hole  through  the  wall  was  entire- 
ly secreted  by  the  covered  way,  I  proceeded  to  make  it 
sufBcieniy  large  to  pass  through. 

After  ail  this  was  accomplished,  one  difficulty  still  re- 
mained. The  sentry  standing  on  the  covered  way  would 
undoubtedly  hear  us  in  going  out  at  this  hole  ;  and  more- 
over, if  we  should  be  so  fortunate  as  to  get,  unheard,  into 
the  covered  vvay,  yet  we  must  come  out  of  that  within  five 
feet  of  the  place  where  he  stood,  and  therefore  could  not 
prevent  a  discovery. 

Under  these  circumstances,  we  found  it  necessary  to  lie 
quiet  until  some  rainy  night  should  remove  the  sentry 
from  his  stand  en  the  covered  way,  to  some  place  of  shel- 
ter. This  was  generally  the  case  when  the  weather  was 
foul  or  uncomfortable,  unless  some  special  cause  should 
detain  him  to  this  particular  spot.  I  recollect,  that  soon 
after  the  officers  had  found  me  blacking  my  shoes  with 
soot,  the  sentinels  kept  their  post,  invariably,  on  the  cov- 
ered way,  in  every  kind  of  weather  ;  but  they  had,  by  this 
time,  become  more  at  ease  in  their  feelings,  and  conse- 
quently would,  at  such  time,  retue  into  an  alley  leading; 
through  the  bomb-proof. 


CHAP.  xvni. 

^  "Wliere  now  my  phrenzy's  pompous  furniture  ? 
"  The  cob-web  cottage,  with  its  ragg-ed  wall 
**  Of  mouldering  mud,  is  royalty  to  me  ! 
"  The  Spider's  most  attenuated  thread 
"  Is  cord,  is  cable,  to  man's  tender  tie 
On  earthly  bliss  ;  it  breaks  at  every  breeze." 


W) 


E  did  not  wait  many  days  for  the  happy  moment,  be  - 
fore  we  heard  the  sentry  leave  his  station  on  the  co\  ered 
way,  and  enter  the  alley,  for  shelter  from  the  rain. 
N  2 


l:  .  MKr^lOIRS  OF 

Aiioiit  1 1  o'clock  at  liiijjht,  I  made  the  necessary  arrpaige- 
r.u  !;ts  for  the  expedition.  The  island  being  in  a  circular 
form.  I  ordered  sever,  men  to  go  round  it  to  the  south, 
.  !-,i!si  1  went  round  to  the  north.  Tlie  reason  why  I  did 
jis  was  of  the  following  nature.. viz.  There  was  a  wharf 
•  n  the  wcotern  shore  of  this  island,  where  the  boats  Avere 
.cpl,  and  a  sentry  placed  over  them.  It  was  necessary, 
:  'itev  v.e  Ivdd  escaped  out  of  the  bomb  proof,  to  procure  a 
Loat,  in  order  to  transport  ourselves  off  the  island  ;  and  as 
there  were  ucne,  except  what  were  immediately  under  the 
'-:-yc  of  the  sentry,  the  only  alternative  v>"hich  remained, 
...'.s  to  make  the  sentry  a  prisoner,  and  carry  him  off  with 
3.  As  this  was  a  business  in  v.hich  some  nicety  of  con- 
duct was  necessary,  I  chose  to  trust  no  one  to  execute  it 
but  myself ;  rnd  therefore,  ordered  the  seven  prisoners 
round  the  island,  a  different  way  from  what  I  went  myself, 
i<nd  directed  them  to  advance  to  wiihin  fifteen  rods  of  the 
:cnune},  and  make  a  noise  sufficient  to  attract  his  attention 
icwards  them.  This  would  bring  the  sentry  between  me 
r.nd  the  other  seven  prisoners  ;  and  when  he  was  turned 
towards  them,  I  should  be  at  his  back. 

Having  made  these  arrangements,  all  the  prisoners  si- 
lently crawled  out  of  the  hole,  following  them  myself  as 
.oon  as  1  saw  they  all  had  passed  without  any  accident. 
We  all  met  at  *the  spot  appointed.  I  told  the  men  to  be 
cautious,  not  to  be  in  a  hurry  ;  not  to  be  in  any  perturba- 
tion ;  but  to  proceed  leisurely  and  considerately  to  the  spot 
i.ppointed.  1  told  them  to  be  five  minutes  in  getting  to 
the  spot.  I  then  left  them.  I  hastened  round,  and  arriv- 
ed as  near  to  the  sentry  as  I  thought  prudent,  about  one 
minute  and' a  half  before  I  heard  the  noise  from  the  other 
men.  At  the  ncibe>  the  sentiy  turned  and  hailed,  "  Who 
comes  there  r"  No  answer  was  made.  Inmiediately  on 
seeing  the  aitenticn  of  the  sentry  turned  from  me,  I  arose 
from  my  position  fiat  on  the  ground,  and  advanced  as  near 
;is  t-wenty  feet,  and  lay  down  again.  Immediately  the  noise 
from  the  seven  men  was  again  renewed  ;  and  the  sentry*s 
attention  was  fixed  to  the  object  of  the  noise.  He  again 
hailed  in  a  very  peremtoiy  manner,  cocked  his  gun,  and 
made  i^ady  to  fire.     By  this  time  I  had  arisen  from  the 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  15  1 

round,  and  advanced  to  within  about  eight  feet  of  the  sen- 
uy,  Avhen  I  heard  the  piece  cock,  and  saw  him  present  it  I 
I  immediately  darted  it  him,  siczed  him  in  an  instant,  and 
clapped  iny  hand  over  his  mouth,  to  prevent  liim  from 
making  a  noise,  ^vhich  should  alarm  the  othcx-  soldiers  on 
guard.  When  I  first  laid  hold  of  him,  he  started,  and  at- 
tempted to  get  from  me,  making  a  noise  through  his  nose 
as  though  very  much  terrified;  crying  "eh!  ehl  eh  I'* 
I  told  him  that  the  least  noise  from  him  should  produce 
instant  death  ;  that  I  would  rip  his  guts  out  the  iirst  mo- 
ment he  proved  refractory.  After  I  had  sufficiently  terri- 
fied him,  I  took  my  hand  from  his  mouth,  and  told  him 
that  no  harai  should  befal  him,  so  long  as  he  behaved  in  a 
peaceable  manner.  I  took  his  gun  and  cartridge-box  from 
him.  The  other  prisoners  now  coming  up,  we  all  went 
into  the  barge,  carrying  ten  oars,  and  put  off. 

It  v/as  now  about  half  an  hour  nast  twelve  at  night,  i: 
being  extremely  dark  and  rainy,  aiid  nothing  to  steer  by, 
except  mere  conjecture.  We  were  ignorant  of  the  time 
of  tide,  whether  it  was  ebbing  or  flowing,  and  consequently 
could  not  tell  which  way  wc  drifted  :  however,  we  deter- 
mined to  row  until  we  came  to  some  land.  I  set  myself 
in  the  stern  sheets,  steering  the  boat ;  Richards,  the  sen- 
try, set  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  between  my  legs.  The 
gun  with  the  fixed  bayonet  lay  by  me,  and  the  cartridge- 
box  hanging  by  my  side.  The  other  men  were  at  their 
oars,  rowing  the  boat.  W^e  had  proceeded  about  far 
enough,  as  we  judged,  to  be  in  the  middle  of  the  channel, 
betv/een  the  island  and  Dorchester,  whither  we  meant  to 
direct  our  course. 

It  was  now  demanded  of  me,  by  one  of  the  men  who 
sat  forward  rowing  the  boat,  what  I  meant  to  do  with  Rich- 
ards ?  As  I  did  not  know  where  we  should  in  fact  land,  I 
was  undetermined  in  my  own  mind  what  I  should  do  with 
him  when  I  came  to  land,  and  gave  an  answer  to  that  a- 
mount.  The  person  asking  this  question,  looking  upon 
his  escape  as  certain,  began  to  put  on  airs  of  consequence, 
and  answered  me  in  a  sarcastic  manner,  "  well,  captain 
Burroughs,  as  you  have  had  the  command  until  you  do 
not  know  what  to  do,  it  is  best  for  some  otlier  person  to 


152  MEMOIRS  OF 

lake  it,  who  does  know  what  to  do ;"  and  then  tuminj^ 
himself  to  Richards,  continued  his  discourse,  "  an*  as  for 
you,  Mr.  Richards,  you'll  please  to  v/alk  overboard,  that 
we  may  not,  after  this,  hear  any  of  your  tales  told  to  your 
brother  swMs.*  If  you  walk  over  without  fuss,  it  is  well, 
it  not,  you  shall  be  thrown  over,  tied  neck  and  heels." 

When  I  heard  this  insoicnt  treatment  and  dastardly  lan- 
'guai^-e,  I  could  hardly  conceive  what  it  meant.  Unpro- 
vokedly  to  throw  Richards  into  the  w^ater,  was  a  manifes- 
tation of  a  language  of  the  heart,  which  appeared  to  me 
so  unnatural,  that  I  could  not  believe  the  person  using  it, 
to  be  serious.  Yet  I  could  not  conceive  any  propriety  in 
using  it  in  any  other  light.  Richards  himself  was  terrili- 
ed.  He  began  to  supplicate  me  in  the  most  moving  terms, 
to  save  him  from  the  destruction  which  was  ready  to  fall 
upon  him.  His  entreaties  made  such  an  impression  up- 
on my  mind,  that  I  should  have  given  him  my  assistance, 
if  I  had  been  opposed  Sf  every  man  in  the  boat :  howev- 
er, I  did  not  yet  believe  he  was  in  that  degree  of  danger 
which  he  appeared  to  apprehend  ;  but  was  soon  undeceiv- 
ed by  the  three  forward  hands  shipping  their  oars  and 
coming  aft. 

I  endeavored  to  expostulate,  but  to  no  effect.  I  saw 
they  were  resolutely  bent  on  their  diabolical  purpose  I  I 
saw  the  disposition  of  the  infernals  pictured  in  their  op- 
erations. I  let  go  the  helm,  started  up,  and  swore  by  the 
Almighty,  that  I'd  send  the  first  to  hell  who  dared  lay  a 
hand  on  Richards.  The  poor  fellow,  at  this  time,  lay  in 
the  bottom  of  the  boat  trembling  with  agony,  and  crying 
in  the  most  piteous  manner.  The  blood  flew  quick  through 
my  veins.  The  plaintive  cries  of  Richards  vibrated  upon 
my  heart,  and  braced  every  nerve.  At  this  moment  the 
first  villain  who  had  proposed  this  infernal  plan,  laid  hold 
of  me  by  the  shoulder  to  prevent  my  interposing  betweeu 
Richards  and  the  others,  who  were  about  throwing  him 
overboard. 

When  I  found  his  hand  griping  my  shoulder,  I  imme- 
diately reached  my  arm  over  his  back,  caught  him  by  the 
waist-band  of  his  breeches  and  dashed  him  to  the  bottom  of 
*  A  cant  word  si^iifying  soldiers. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  US 

the  boLit.  The  moment  of  my  laying  hold  of  him,  I  de- 
termined to  throw  him  into  the  sea,  and  why  I  did  not,  I 
have  never  since  been  able  to  tell.  After  I  had  thrown 
him  into  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  I  caught. the  gun  on  which 
was  a  bayonet  fixed  ;  this  1  brought  to  a  charge  and  made 
a  push  at  the  man  nearest  me,  who  drew  back,  took  his 
seat  at  the  oar,  when  all  again  M-as  quiet. 

We  continued  rowing  until  we  struck  fast  on  the  ground, 
but  could  see  no  land.  We  left  the  boat  and  waded  about 
until  we  discovered  the  shore.  When  we  came  to  the 
land,  we  could  not  determine  on  what  place  we  had  fallen. 
We  were  soon  satisfied,  however,  by  the  drum  on  the  Cas- 
tle beating  the  long-roll,  and  immediately  after,  beating  to 
arms.  We  hftard  the  alarm  in  that  direction  which  plain- 
ly pointed  out,  that  we  v/ere  somewhere  near  Dorchester- 
Point.  We  saw  the  Castle  in  an  uproar,  and  all  the  sig- 
nals of  alarm  which  are  usually  made  on  such  occasions. 

After  we  had  found  where  we  were,  the  three  men  who 
engaged  in  throAving  Richards  overboard,  left  us,  and  went 
avray  together.  I  then  told  Pvichards  that  he  might  go 
where  he  pleased  ;  that  he  must  be  sensible  I  had  saved 
his  life,  even  at  the  risk  of  my  own  ;  therefore,  the  dictates 
of  gratitude  woul4  teach  him  a  line  of  conduct  which 
would  not  militate  against  my  escape.  This  he  promised 
in  the  most  solemn  manner.  He  was  warm  in  his  expres- 
sions of  gratitude  towards  me.  I  believed  him  sincere. 
He  departed. 

In  this  transaction,  I  enjoyed  a  sensation  of  pleasure 
very  exquisite.  To  receive  the  tribute  of  a  grateful  heart, 
flowing  from  a  stream  of  sincerity,  was  a  circumstance, 
which  in  a  measure  counterbalanced  many  evils,  which  I 
had  experienced.  We  had  all  lost  our  shoes  in  the  mud, 
in  getting  to  dry  land ;  therefore,  had  to  travel  bare-foot- 
ed. It  was  the  space  of  an  hour  and  a  half  after  we  httd 
landed,  before  we  found  the  way  off  this  point  of  land; 
the  night  being*  extremely  dark,  and  v/e  all  strangers  to 
the  ground. 

After  we  had  found  the  road,  I  told  the  four  men  who 
were  with  me,  that  the  better  way  would  be  to  separate, 
and  every  m.iui  shift  for  Idmself.     This  observation  struck 


l«4  MEMOIRS  OF 

a  damp  upon  all  who  were  with  me.  They  entreated  me 
to  tarry  with  them  until  the  night  followini^,  when  they 
could  have  a  better  chance  of  getting  clear  of  the  country 
without  detecdon;  they  feared  falling  into  the  hands  of 
their  pursuers  if  I  left  them.  They  felt  a  certainty  of  es- 
cape if  I  remained  with  them.  My  compassion  Avas  mov- 
ed, and  I  acted  directly  contrary  from  what  I  knew  was 
according  to  a  system  of  prudence.  We  agreed  to  remain 
all  together  until  the  next  night. 

The  day  began  to  dawn,  and  we  found  it  necessary  to 
look  after  some  place,  to  which  we  could  retire  from  the 
observation  of  the  inhabitants  ;  all  the  men,  except  myself, 
being  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  the  Castle,  and  of  course, 
would  be  noticed  by  the  first  observer.  Some  proposed 
retiring  into  a  swamp,  and  secreting  ourselves  in  its  dark 
recesses;  some  proposed  the  plan  of  going  into  the  first 
grove  of  woods,  and  climbing  up  to  the  top  of  some  trees, 
and  securing  ourselves  that  way.  To  these  proposals  I 
made  the  following  reply  :  it  is  likely,  that  as  soon  as  day 
light  has  fairly  appeared,  the  inhabitants  of  the  country 
w  ill  be  alarmeJ  ;  and  warm  pursuit  will  be  made  after  us  ; 
and  every  place,  where  the  inhabitants  will  think  it  likely 
that  v/e  should  hide,  will  be  se;:rched  by  them  in  ihe  most 
critical  manner.  No  plcxes  will  be  .sought  more  thorough- 
ly than  thick  swamps  and  high  bushy  trees  ;  therefore,  it 
will  be  our  best  way  to  hide  where  the  people  will  not 
look  after  us,  if  such  a  place  may  be  found.  For  my  own 
part,  I  had  rather  take  my  chance,  under  present  circum- 
stances, in  the  open  field  than  in  a  swamp  or  at  the  top  of 
a  tree. 

The  objects  of  the  swamp  and  woods  were  immediately 
relinquislied,  and  tl-ey  all  seemed  content  to  leave  the 
matter  to  my  judgment  entirely.  We  travelled  on  with 
rapidity  about  one  mile  further,  and  then  came  into  a  lit- 
tle thicket  of  houses,  and  a  barn  standing  immediately  on 
the  road  among  them  ;  this  barn  we  all  entered  and  found 
two  mows  of  hay.  I  ascended  one  mow,  and  having  tak- 
en up  the  hay  by  flakes,  near  the  side  of  the  barn,  to  the 
depth  of  six  feet,  three  of  us  went  down,  and  the  hay  fell 
back  into  its  former  situ:. don,  covering  us  entirely  over  dt 


^STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  155 

the  same  time.  I  had  ordered  the  other  two  to  go  on  to 
the  other  mow,  and  do  as  they  had  seen  me.  They  ac- 
cordmgly  went,  and  I  supposed  all  secure. 

Not  long  after  this,  there  came  a  number  of  women  in- 
to the  barn  to  milk  the  cows.  Soon  after,  I  heard  chil- 
dren round  the  barn,  as  though  they  were  in  pursuit  of 
something  with  a  dog.  I  soon  found  that  a  skunk  was 
their  object  under  the  barn.  However,  when  the  women 
had  finished  milking  their  cows,  the  children  were  all  or- 
dered into  the  house,  this  day  being  Sunday. 

To  my  astonishment  and  surprise,  the  two  men  v/ho  had 
gone  to  de  other  mow,  now  came  over  where  I  was,  and 
told  me,  they  could  not  find  a  place  to  hide  ;  "  and  in- 
deed," said  they,  "  we  do  not  like  to  be  so  far  off,  for  it 
appears  to  us,  that  we  shall  be  taken  if  we  are  1"  How  I 
felt  under  this  situation  you  will  readily  conceive,  by 
supposing  yourself  in  my  place,  and  people  expected  into 
the  barn  eveiy  minute  to  fodder  their  cattle  I  I  jumped 
out  of  my  phice,  told  them  to  lie  down  in  a  moment,  cov- 
ered them  over  with  hay,  and  returned  into  my  place,  just 
as  the  young  men  came  into  the  barn  to  take  care  of  tlieir 
cattle*  They  came  on  to  the  mow  where  we  were  lying, 
and  took  the  hay  from  it  for  their  cows  ;  but  made  no  dis- 
covery :  and  yet,  notwithstanding  all  this,  one  of  our  men, 
by  the  name  of  Burrel,  -whom  I  had  covered  over  with  hay, 
was  asleep  before  the  young  men  went  out  of  the  barn,  and 
snored  so  loud,  as  to  be  heard  ;  but  the  men  did  not  know 
what  noise  it  was,  nor  Avhere  it  came  from. 

Immediately  after  these  men  had  left  the  bani,  I  again 
jumped  out  of  my  hole,  went  to  Burrel,  who  had  uncov- 
ered his  head  entirely,  waked  him,  and  expostulated  with 
him  in  tiie  severest  terms.  "  This  is  the  consequence,'* 
said  I,  "  of  attending  to  your  request  of  remaining  with 
you.  Your  own  heedless  disposition,  not  only  exposes 
yourself  to  be  found,  but  likewise  involves  me  in  the  same 
danger.  Is  it  a  matter  of  such  indifference  to  you  wheth- 
er you  are  again  taken,  that  you  can  tamely  and  calmly  fall 
asleep  at  the  moment  when  you  are  surrounded  with  dan- 
ger ?  If  no  regard  to  your  own  safety  will  influence  you  on 
this  occasion,  yet,  I  should  suppose  you  might  pay  some 


156  MEMOIRS  OF 

attention  to  my  welfare,  seeing  it  was  by  your  earnest  en- 
treaty I  continued  •with  you,  being  influenced  by  no  other 
motive  than  compassion  towards  you.  If  nothing  else  will 
answer,  I  will  have  recourse  to  the  means  which  are  in 
my  power  ;  and  if  I  find  you  asleep  again,  I  will  positively 
put  you  to  death  ;  and  this  I  think  will  be  entirely  just,  if 
no  other  measure  will  answer  to  ensure  my  safety-'*  I  was 
of  opinion  this  threat  would  answer  the  purpose,  for  which 
it  was  intended,  viz.  that  fear  would  operate  upon  him  so 
strongly,  as  to  prevent  his  sleeping  in  such  a  situation  for 
the  future. 

We  lay  quiet  all  the  forenoon,  without  any  accident: 
during  this  time,  I  endeavored  to  mr.ke  some  arrangement 
in  my  own  mind  for  my  future  conduct.  I  concluded  that 
I  should  be  able  to  reach  the  state  of  Rhode-Island  by  the 
next  morning,  when  I  should  be  no  longer  obliged  to  trav- 
el under  cover  of  the  night;  when  I  could  again  mix  v.-ich 
society,  without  viewing  them  as  my  open  and  declared 
enemies. 

We  heard  the  various  bells  ringing  at  Dorchester  meet- 
ing-houses for  the  exercises  of  the  day.  The  forenoon 
meeting  was  finished,  and  the  first  bell  for  the  exercises 
of  the  afternoon  was  ringing,  when  anUmber  of  men  came 
into  the  barn  to  put  a  horse  into  the  chaise,  standing  on  the 
barn-floor.  The  streets  were  full  of  people  going  to  the 
meeting-house.  A  number  of  children  came  likewise  in- 
to the  barn  with  the  men,  and  climbed  on  to  the  mow 
where  we  lay  secreted,  looking  for  hens'  nests.  At  this 
moment  Burrel  began  again  to  snore,  which  brought  the 
children  immediately  to  the  spot  where  he  lay,  and  his 
head  being  uncovered,  they  saw  it,  and  cried  out,  "  daddy, 
daddy,  here's  the  -skunk  !  here's  the  skunk  !"  It  hardly 
appeared  credible  to  the  old  gentleman  that  a  skunk  should 
be  on  the  hay-mow ;  he  therefore  manifested  some  doubt 
as  to  his  children's  report,  but  they  were  determined  he 
should  believe  them,  and  affirmed  it  again  with  warmth, 
"  it  certainly  is  a  skunk,  daddy,  for  it  has  got  ears." 

The  peculiar  manner  in  which  this  was  uttered,  made 
the  people,  on  the  barn-floor,  think  something  uncommon 
was  there.     They  accordingly  ascended   the  mow  to  the 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  157 

number  of  eight  or  nin(i,  in  order  to  satisfy  thynselves 
concerning  this  matter.  By  this  time  Burrel  awaking, 
saw  he  was  discovered,  and  began  to  pull  the  hay  over  his 
head.  Those  who  were  on  the  mow  saw  it,  and  were 
now  convinced,  that  the  children  in  fact  had  seen  some- 
thing that  had  ears.  They  took  the  pitch-fork  and  mov- 
ed the  hay,  which  lay  over  these  two  men,  and  imn.edi- 
ately  saw  that  they  were  convicts,  escaped  the  precedm^^ 
night  from  the  Castle r*:  .  -**' 

The  barn  was  inst^ti^  filled  with  people  from  t-*ft  street, 
on  the  alarm's  beih^-  gt^«j^  of  these  men.  Through  the 
whole  scene,  from  the  first  opening  of  the  barn  by  the 
men,  who  were  about  putting  the  horse  into  the  chaise,  till 
this  time,  my  fe^ings  were  of  the  keenest  kind.  When 
I  had  succeeded  with  all  my  plans  for  escape  thus  far, 
when  1  had  endured  with  so  much  patience,  a  course  of 
such  incredible  labor,  as  what  I  performed  in  breaking 
through  the  bomb-proof ;  when  I  haarurthermore,  over- 
come the  difficulties  of  making  the  sentry  a  prisoner,  of 
preserving  him  from  death,  of  finding  the  land  we  sought, 
through  the  thickest  shades  of  night,  and  the  uncertuinty 
of  being  drifted  out  of  our  course  by  adverse  tides  ;  and 
then  by  a  retrograde  course  of  incidents,  to  be  deprived 
of  the  object  to  Avhich  all  these  labors  were  directed,  was 
a  prospect  which  filled  my  mind  with  the  keenest  anxiety, 
and  kept  my  fears  in  a  perpetual  state  of  alarm. 

Burrel  was  a  man  of  great  stupidity,  and  I  feared  his 
senseless  conduct  more  than  any  thing  else.  You  will 
wonder  at  my  continuing  with  him  !  I  wonder  at  it  my- 
self. My  weak  side  was  an  inconsiderate  compassion.  I 
did  continue  with  him,  and  too  late  I  saw  my  error.  How- 
ever, I  acted  the  foolish  part  in  another  respect,  viz.  by 
not  taking  him  into  the  hole  with  me,  wliere  I  could  have 
kept  him  perpetually  under  my  eye.  He  was  very  disa- 
greeable, and  the  object  of  being  freed  from  a  mrnientary 
inccmvenience  was  so  powerful  on  ray  mind,  at  that  timc« 
that  for  this  paltry  consideration,  I  lost  my  liberty  ior  more 
than  two  years. 

I  heard  the  children  around  the  hay-mou  v  i'.         ^    f- 
most  pain.     I  heard  Barrel's  snoring   with  indignation 
o 


lo8  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  horror  :  1  now  almost  gave  myself  over  for  lost  !  But 
v/hat  were  niy  sensations  when  the  people  ascended  the 
mow  and  discovered  these  two  convicts,  plainly  seeing 
who  they  were  by  their  dress. 

However,  all  hope  of  escape  was  not  lost.  I  thought  it 
yet  possible  to  remain  undiscovered,  if  the  two  convicts 
behaved  with  any  prudence,  seeing  we  were  so  far  under 
the  hay.  The  question  was  asked,  "  what  had  become  of 
the  other  prisoners  who  had  made  their  escape  ?"  Burrel 
answered,  that  he  should  not  tell,  "  but  if  they  were  any 
where  in  that  barn,  they  are  right  down  there,*'  pointing 
with  his  finger  to  the  spot  where  we  in  fact  were.  With 
this  information,  they  began  the  search  again,  pitching  the 
hay  from  the  spot,  till  they  came  down  to  the  place  where 
we  had  been  secreted.  The  feeble  twig  upon  which  my 
last  hopes  remained  was  now  broken,  and  I  sunk  into  a 
state  of  despair.  All  my  fond  hopes  were  lost  in  a  mo- 
ment, and  I  found  i:uyself  only  fallen  into  a  state  of  greater 
wretchedness,  in  the  room  of  being  liberated  from  my  for- 
mer misery. 

"  Is  this  the  rev/ard,"  said  I  to  the  inhabitants,  "  for  sav- 
ing one  of  your  number,  but  a  short  time  since,  from  the 
devouring  jaws  of  death,  ready  to  swallow  him  up  ?  But  a 
little  time  since,  he  stood  in  need  of  my  pity.  I  granted 
him  that  compassion  which  nature  has  taught  me  to  shew. 
I  now  stand  in  need  of  your  pity  ;  will  you  not  grant  what 
you,  in  a  like  situation,  would  request  ?  Remember  that 
this  \vorld  is  a  state  of  revolution.  You  may  yet  see  the 
time  in  which  you  v;ill  want  the  exercise  of  compassion, 
even  from  me,  however  improbable  the  present  appear- 
ance. You  would  then  lament  not  having  shewn  that 
compassion  which  you  v/ould  stand  in-  need  of  yourselves. 
Y^ou  can  hardly  imagine  that  my  escape  can  produce  any 
injury  to  you.  I  shall  leave  you,  and  shall  never  return  to 
a  place  where  I  might  be  in  danger  of  confinement.  You 
who  are  parents,  may  have  children  in  rny  situation  ;  would 
not  your  hearts  yearn  with  compassion  towards  a  child  in 
my  condition  ?  Would  not  you  feel  the  most  earnest  de- 
sire, that  some  breast,  softened  by  the  tender  emotions  of 
•cojppassion,  would  SLiy  unto  your  child,  go — enjoy  the 


STEPHEN.  BURROUGHS.  I  '5  ? 

blessinc^  which  nature  l)estows  ;  wanton  in  the  streams 
of  liberty,  and  celebrate  the  day  of  jubilee  ?  Would  not  the 
strong  emotions  of  gratitude  fire  your  heart,  towards  such 
a  benevolent  part  of  creation  ?  Would  not  such  a  compas- 
sionate action  appear  to  you  more  lovely  than  the  beauties 
of  the  morning  ;  more  glorious  than  the  sun  in  his  majes- 
ty 2  This,  surely  you  would  say,  is  a  narration  of  Deity  ;  a 
spark  of  the  fire  of  love,  manifested  by  nature's  God  in  the 
daily  dispensations  of  his  providence  to  man." 

All  my  entreaties  were  to  no  effect.  The  minds  of  peo- 
ple were  so  fortiiied  against  every  observation  which  I 
made,  that  the  ideas  of  pity  or  compassion  were  shut  en- 
tirely out.  They  knew  not  my  feelings,  therefore  could 
not  judge  with  regard  to  thab conduct  which  I  thought 
they  ought  to  exercise  towards  me.  They  had  never  b^een 
in  m.y  situation,  hence  could  not  view  it  in  its  proper  light. 

We  were  all  carried  to  a  public  house,  and  kept  there 
until  a  guard  came  from  the  island  and  conducted  us  back 
again.  Immediately  upon  our  landing  upK)n  the  island,  I 
was  ordered  into  irons.  This  was  a  circumstance  proving 
the  ideas  existing  herej  of  my  being  the  soul  of  every  en- 
terprize  ;  and  indeed  they  had  pretty  good  evidence  to 
found  their  opinion  upon,  considering  that  I  was  the  only 
person  remaining  in  the  room  out  of  which  we  escaped, 
through  the  day,  without  being  turned  into  the  shop  to 
work  ;  and  their  recollecting  the  circumstance,  likewise, 
of  blacking  my  shoes  with  soot,  in  order  to  account  for  the 
noise  which  the  sentry  had  formerly  heard  ;  the  reason  of 
the  noise  being  now  more  clearly  understood  than  formerly. 

The  next  morning  we  were  all  summoned,  with  great 
pomp  and  ceremony,  before  the  three  officers,  sitting  as  a 
coin-t-martial,*  and  there  beard  an  enumeration  of  ihe 
crimes  laid  to  our  charge,  which  amounted  to  five  in  num- 
ber, viz.  first,  breaking  the  jail  ;  second,  carrying  the  :>en- 
try  from  his  post ;  third,  taking  the  arms  and  auimunirion 
of  the  garrison  and  carrying  them  away  ;  foui'th,  taking 
the  boat  belonging  to  the  garrison,  and  carrying  it  oil  ±q 

*  The  law  of  tlie  state  of  Massachusetts  making  Castle  Islai  d  ., 
place  for  the  confinement  of  Convicts,  had  subjected  them  to  mar- 
tial kiw  while  remaining-  there. 


MEMOIRS  OF 

island  ;  ufth,  and  lastly,  deserting  fi-om  our  state  of  coh- 
iinenient.  Of  all  these  crimes  we  were  found  guilty,  and 
received  sentence  of  thirty -nine  stripes  for  each,  with  the 
ca.t-o*ninetails,  amounting  in  all  to  one  hundred  and  nine- 
ty-five lashes  ;  we  however  obtained  a  remission  of  ninety- 
five,  and  received  one  hundred  only,  the  next  day  at  sun 
setting. 

,^\The  three  prisoners  who  went  away  by  themselves, 
w^e  likewise  this  day  re-taken  and  brought  on  to- the 
island,  tried  and  sentenced  ;  therefore,  at  sun-setting  there 
were  eight  of  us  brought  to  the  whipping  post,  stripped 
and  punished  according  to  the  sentence. 

The  sentry,  yhom.  we  had  made  prisoner,  had  returned 
on  to  the  island  the  morning  after  his  captivity,  and  had 
given  a  very  just  relation  of  the  events  which  had  taken 
place  while  he  was  our  prisoner  ;  of  consequence,  when 
the  punishment  was  inflicted  on  me,  it  was  a  name  rather 
than  a  reality.  The  othei'S,  and  snore  particulai'Iy  three 
of  them,  were  punished  with  great  severity,  the  flesh  fly- 
ing  offal  every  stroke. 


CHAP.  XIX. 

*'  Enchanting  pleasure  dances  in  our  sight, 

"  And  tempts  ns  forward  by  a  ti-each'rous  light. 

'*  But  while  thy  flattering  smiles  our  thoughts  inflame, 

"  Thou  prov'st  to  us  a  mere  fantastic  name, 

"  A  fair  delusion  and  a  pleasing  cheat, 

**■  A  gaudy  vision  and  a  soft  deceit." 

X.  FOUND  that  my  humanity  to  Richards  had  made  a 
j)artial  impression  in  my  favor,  upon  the  minds  of  the  peo- 
ple in  the  towns  contiguous  ;  but  that  impression  was  sooft 
lost  in  forgetfulness,  and  no  more  remembered,  when  the 
event  was  a  little  removed  from  view  by  the  hand  of  time. 
You  may  now  hear  my  name  mentioned  a  thousand  times, 
together  with  a  thousand  circumstances  respecting  my  ad- 
ventures through  life,  without  ever  hearing  the  least  men- 
tion made  of  this  circumstance,  tliough  the  fact  was  a 
matter  of  as  much  notoriety  as  any  event  of  my  life.    You 


•   STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  161 

aiCiV  hear  the  mouths  of  people  filled  with  anecdotes  re- 
lating to  me,  of  the  disagreeable  kind,  through  all  p:irts  of 
the  country.  Nay,  more,  all  the  reports  which  have  cir- 
culated through  the  world  for  many  years  past,  of  that 
species  which  serves  to  place  the  character  in  a  vicious 
point  of  view,  have  been  placed  to  my  account,  and  are  now 
related  as  facts  not  admitting  the  least  doubt.  Hence,  the 
anecdote  of  the  watch  and  clothes  stolen  from  the  clergy- 
man, &c.  &c.  form  a  detail  too  long  for  me  to  inseruin 
this  narration.  It  has  ever  appeared  that  an  ungenerous 
principle  has  influenced  mankind  to  relate  the  dark  cir- 
cumstances which  have  composed  my  character  ;  and  that 
they  have  shrunk  from  the  relation  of  any  facts  which  have 
worn  the  appearance  of  my  being  clothed  with  humanity, 
as  though  the  most  baleful  poison  was  attendant  on  such  a 
relation.  Such  a  fondness  is  there  in  the  human  heart  to 
bring  into  view  such  circumstances,  in  the  character  of 
others,  as  will  exalt  themselves,  in  a  comparison  between 
their  own  conduct  and  that  of  others. 

About  this  time  the  shops  vreve  fitted  up  sufficient  to 
receive  all  the  prisoners,  with  conveniences  for  making 
nails.  Therefore.  I  ^v^^s  put  to  v/ork  in  the  shops,  and 
taught  to  manufacture  nails  ;  but  the  lessons  which  T  re- 
ceived here  had  but  little  eftect  upon  my  progress  in  ac- 
quiring this  noble  art.  That  unaccountable  stupidity  which 
I  ever  possessed,  had  an  unusual  influence  upon  me  at 
this  time.  It  is  true,  I  could  make  a  nail  equal  to  any 
thing  you  ever  saw,  of  the  kind,  in  beauty  and  elegance  ; 
but  the  slowness  with  which  I  executed  this,  was  a  circum- 
stance of  great  complaint  by  the  overseer,  not  being  able 
to  finish  more  than  five  in  a  day  ;  which  cost  more  than 
ten  times  the  value  of  the  nails  in  coal  and  iron  ;  there- 
fore, it  was  determined,  that  I  should  be  more  expeditious 
in  my  work.  I  obeyed  the  commands  of  those  who  were 
over  me.  I  made  the  next  day  five  hundred  nails  ;  but 
they  had  as  many  heads  and  horns  as  the  beast  we  read  of 
in  scripture.  This  did  not  answer  the  purpose  intended. 
I  was  reprimanded  in  severe  terms,  but  all  did  not  signify. 
When  1  made  good  nails,  I  could  not  overgo  five  in  a  day, 


162  IVIEMOIRS  OF 

and  when  I  made  more,  they  were  as  varied,  in  form  and 
magnitude,  as  the  ragged  rocks  upon  the  mountains. 

The  plain  truth  of  the  business  was  here  :  I  viewed  the 
ti'ansuctions  of  the  government  towards  me,  to  be  inimical 
and  cruel.  I  felt  none  of  that  confidence  in  her  treatment 
which  a  child  ought  to  feel  tov/ards  the  government  of  a 
kind  parent.  I  considered  that  she  had  declared  open  war 
against  me  ;  and  would  take  every  opportunity  to  oppress 
me.  Under  this  view  of  matters,  I  meant  to  make  those 
arrangements  in  my  conduct,  which  wc  see  one  nation 
making  in  their  conduct  towards  another,  with  whom  they 
are  at  open  war. 

Whether  I  had  just  grounds  to  view  matters  in  this 
light,  I  leave  to  your  own  judgment ;  meaning,  with  re- 
gard to  that,  only  to  relate  simple  facts.  True  it  was,  I 
had  suffered  many  unusual,  cruel  and  illegal  punishments 
since  I  had  been  under  the  displeasure  of  the  govern- 
ment ;  but  whether  the  odium  ought  to  be  thrown  on  in- 
dividuals or  the  government,  I  leave  you  to  judge.  I  know 
my  situation  did  not  admit  of  that  cool  and  rational  think- 
ing upon  these  subjects  which  real  justice  i*equired  ;  how- 
ever, my  design  is  not  to  justify  that  line  of  conduct  which 
ought  not  to  be  justified  ;  neither  do  I  intend  to  criminate 
that  conduct  which  I  think  justifiable;  because  some 
might  be  pleased  to  criminate  it  themselves.  Viewing 
matters  as  I  then  did,  I  was  determined  to  withstand  every 
effort  which  my  overseers  should  make,  to  render  me 
profitable  in  my  situation  ;  and  how  far  I  succeeded  in  my 
undertakings,  you  wdll  be  able  to  judge  by  the  after  rela- 
tion. 

About  this  time,  the  prisoners  whom  I  left  in  North- 
ampton for  trial,  came  on  to  the  island,  according  to  their 
sentence,  viz.  Philips,  Warner,  Rogers,  and  a  number  of 
others,  whoso  names  I  have  forgotten.  I  was  determin- 
ed to  defeat  the  business  of  making  nails  entirely  ;  and  ac- 
cordirigly  entered  into  a  plan  for  that  purpose. 

Theie  was  a  large  well  about  six  rods  from  the  shop, 
to  which  wc  used  to  repair  for  water.  The  well  was  20 
feet  deep,  and  the  water  generally  near  the  top.  We  took 
our  nail-rods,  broke  them  in  pieces,  put  them  into  the- wa- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  163 

ter  pail,  carried  them  to  the  well,  and  flung  them  into  the 
water.  This  we  continued  for  the  space  of  three  weeks, 
until  the  well  was  nearly  filled  with  iron.  The  return  of 
nails  did  not  half  pay  for  the  ^rst  cost  of  the  rods,  so  that 
the  commissary  was  determined  to  send  no  more  rods  to 
the  island  ;  supposing  it  a  waste  of  the  public  property. 
However,  the  overseer  urged  another  trial,  and  the  com- 
missary with  reluctance,  consented  to  send  down  a  small 
quantity  of  nail-rods  for  the  Ust  trial.  This  circumstance 
I  was  informed  of,  by  the  boat-men,  who  went  after  the 
rods.  I  therefore  exhorted  the  prisoners  to  stand  this 
last  trial  with  courage  and  perseverance.  They  univer- 
sally promised  to  remain  inviolate  to  their  trust,  and  I 
pleased  myself  with  the  speedy  accomplishment  of  my 
plan. 

The  universal  excuse  of  the  prisoners,  for  not  return- 
ing more  nails  for  the  iron  which  they  had  received,  was 
their  inability.  They  constantly  insisted  upon  it,  that  they 
could  not  make  more  nails  out  of  the  iron  ;  all  agreeing  in 
one  excuse,  and  all  returning  much  the  same  quantity  of 
nails,  in  proportion  to  the  iron  they  received ;  it  was 
thought  that  the  business  would  not  answer  its  design  ; 
and  therefore  was  about  being  droppod.  Yet  the  overseer 
was  minded  to  try  one  more  experiment,  to  see  whether 
the  business  would  bear  a  profit,  or  whether  it  would  not. 
The  law,  regulating  th€  treatment  towards  convicts  on 
the  Castle,  had  strictly  prohibited  the  allowance  of  spirit- 
uous liquors,  under  any  consideration  ;  therefore,  many, 
v/ho  had  been  formerly  great  drunkards,  were  now  wholly 
debarred  their  favorite  enjoyment ;  and  moreover,  being 
so  long  habituated  to  immoderate  drinking,  and  being 
now  wholly  deprived  of  the  use  of  it,  they  had  experienced 
in  reality,  great  temporary  inconveniences,  with  regard 
to  their  health,  as  well  as  to  the  cravings  of  appetite  un- 
satisfied. Hence,  the  prospect  of  spirituous  liquor  to  these, 
vrould  have  a  very  powerful  effect.  This  the  overseer  was 
sensible  of;  and  accordingly,  offered  a  gill  of  rum  to  eve- 
ry one  who  should  return  so  many  nails,  out  of  such  a 
weight  of  iron. 

This  bait  I  saw.  I  expostulated  with  the  men  to  be- 
ware of  the  trcacheiy.     I  used  every  argument  in  my 


164  MEMOIRS  OF 

power  to  convince  them  of  the  necessity  of  this  self-deni- 
al. I  endeavored  to  shew  them,  that  far  from  kindness, 
this  rum  was  offered  them  f.s  the  most  fatal  poison  they 
could  drink.  They  were  all  convinced,  and  all  seemed 
resolute  to  put  in  practice  my  advice.  But^vhen  the  rum 
was  brought  into  the  shop,  and  they  saw  the  precious  mor- 
sel before  them,  they  fciinted  under  the  trial  I  They  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  1  They  weighed  the  iron,  and' 
returned  the  full  tale  of  nails  ;  they  drank  the  delicious 
liqi\id.  They  returned  into  the  prison  with  exultation  ; 
they  were  rich  ;  they  felt  far  exalted  above  my  situation  ; 
being  able  to  gain  a  gill  ofiaim  a  day  ;  v/hereas,  I  was  un- 
able to  perform  one  tenth  part  of  the  task  required. 

"  Now,"  said  they,  "  we  shall  be  able  to  earn  a  gill  of 
rum  every  day  1"  This  appeared  so  great  a  state  of  happi- 
ness, when  compared  v,4th  what  their  case  had  been,  that 
they  were  almost  contented  with  their  situation.  They 
began  to  despise  my  wisdom  ;  to  think  that  my  head  did 
not  contain  so  much  as  they  were  before  inclined  to  believe 
it  did.  They  exultingly  said,  "  this  never  would  have 
been  the  case,  if  we  had  followed  your  advice.  We  must 
have  a  little  sense  now  and  then,  as  well  as  you  all  the  time." 
I  had  no  disposition  to  contradict  these  haughty  Patricians. 
'<  Perhaps,  said  I,  befch-e  to-morrow  morning  you  may  find 
yourselves  sunken  to  your  former  Plebeian  state  of  servile 
misery."  I  had  rather  see  the  operation  of  such  pro- 
found penetration,  than  undertake  to  contradict  one  of  these 
Knights  of  the  Pot,  with  all  his  greatness,  armed  capapee. 
I  lay  down  in  sorrow,  repeating  the  following  words  of 
Young,  as  a  lullaby  to  sooth  my  disappointed  feelings  : 

**  To  man,  why  step-dame  nature  so  severe  ? 

"  Why  throw  aside  tliy  master-piece  half  wrought, 

"  While  meaner  efforts  thy  last  hand  employ  ? 

"  Reason's  progi-essive  insti]ict  is  complete  ; 

"  Swift  instinct  leaps — slow  reason  feebly  climbs. 

*'  Brutes  soon  their  zenith  reach — their  little  all 

"  Flows  in  at  once — in  ages  tliey  no  more 

"  Could  know,  or  do,  or  covet,  or  enjoy. 

'*  "Were  men  to  live  co-equal  with  the  sun, 

'•  The  Patriarch-pupil  would  be  learning  still ; 

"  Yet,  dyin^,  leaves  his  lesson  lialf  unlearnt." 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  \63 

After  the  prisoners  had  performed  their  task  the  next 
day,  and  returned  their  nails  in  full  tale,  to  their  astonish- 
ment and  sore  mortification,  they  found  no  rum  was  to  be 
dealt  out  to  them.  They  made  application  for  it,  but  re- 
ceived in  return  the  bitterest  reproaches  and  heavy  curses. 
They  were  given  to  understand  that  they  should  now  do 
their  tasks,  and  that  too  without  a  reward.  I  found,  when 
they  were  shut  into  the  prison  at  night,  that  they  had  fallen 
greatly  from  their  state  of  exaltation,  which  they  felt  the 
night  preceding.  They  were  now  not  so  rich,  so  great, 
nor  so  wise.  They  could  now  see  the  propriety  of  my  ex- 
postulations ;  but  alas  !  they  saw  it  too  late. 

Seeing  the  success  of  this  experiment  had  such  a  salu- 
tary effect  ift  discovering  the  real  cause  why  the  prisoners 
had  not  been  more  profitable  in  their  labors,  the  overseer 
thought  to  make  me  change  my  plan  of  conduct  as  much 
as  the  others  had  changed  theirs:  but  in  this  attempt,  he 
found  me  possessing  what  the  West-India  Planter  would 
call  sullenness,  or  incoi'rigible  obstinacy,  in  one  of  his 
slaves.  Those  who  felt  friendly  towards  me  would  call  it 
manly  resolulion  ;  others,  who  were  inimical,  would  call 
it  deviltry,  wickedness.  Sec.  so  that  it  would  have  as  many 
names  as  there  are  different  feelings  towards  one  in  those 
who  relate  it.  You,  sir,  may  call  it  by  what  n^ime  you  find 
propriety  will  dictate.  The  fact  was,  that  by  length  of  time, 
I  did  not  become  any  more  profitable  in  my  employment. 

About  this  time  there  was  a  change  of  overseers.  The 
first,  whose  name  was  Builey,  was  by  no  means  a  bad  man. 
He  had  something  of  the  petulant  and  whimsical  about 
him,  but  this  was  only  the  ebullition  of  a  moment,  and, his 
governing  character  was  reasonable,  humane,  and  feeling. 
In  the  room  of  the  former,  there  came  to  occupy  his  place, 
a  man  whose  name  was  Rifford,  ignorant,  stupid,  cruel, 
barbarous  and  unfeeling.  He  was  a  blacksmith  by  occu- 
pation, and  hence  it  was  thought  he  would  answer  a  better 
purpose  to  superintend  the  nailing  business  than  one  who 
was  entirely  unacquainted  with  such  work.  He  had  not 
been  long  on  the  island  before  the  prisoners  began  to  feel 
the  severity  of  his  arm.  When  he  was  offended,  he  made 
lise  of  any  thing  which  he  could  lay  his  hand  upon,  to  chas- 


166  MEMOIRS  OF 

tise  those  who  gave  him  the  offence  ;  hence  th.e  prisortei  s 
were  unmercifully  beaten  with  clubs,  tongs,  bars  of 'iron, 
or  any  other  missile  weapon  which  should  come  to  hand. 
It  was  impossible  to  avoid  the  disagreeable  effects  of  his 
anger.  He  would  often  be  in  a  rage  when  no  one  could 
account  for  it ;  and  at  other  times,  v/ould  suffer  himself  to 
be  treated  in  such  a  manner  as  no  man  of  sense  and  digni- 
ty would  allow  :  hence,  I  found  the  old  adage,  "  it  is  hard 
to  deal  with  a  fool,"  most  sensibly  verified  in  this  instance. 

My  prospects  did  not  by  any  means  reconcile  my  feel- 
ings to  my  situation.  I  yet  panted  for  liberty  with  an  ar- 
dor of  desire  beyond  description.  I  viewed  every  situa- 
tion in  which  matters  were  placed  about  this  island.  I  en- 
deaAored  to  concert  some  plan  to  turn  them  to  my  advan- 
tage. ^  I  finally  determined  on  making  one  bold  and 
daring  push  to  make  myself  master  of  the  place.  This 
plan  I  did  not  hastily  enter  upon,  without  first  weighing 
all  the  circumstances  which  might  probably  attend  such 
an  undertaking. 

There  were  at  this  time  about  forty -five  prisoners  con- 
fined in  this  place,  a  motley  assembly  of  characters,  from 
varioirs  nations  in  Europe  as  well  as  America.  These 
were  a  class  of  people  of  the  most  abandoned  principles, 
hardened  in  the  school  of  vice  and  danger;  consequently, 
I  believed  them  to  possess  the  most  unshaken  courage  and 
daring  fortitude,  of  any  class  of  men  inhabiting  the  globe. 
Hqw  I  was  deceived  in  this  opinion  you  will  learn  by  the 
relation  following. 

The  bomb-proof,  where  we  were  confined,  -was  about 
eighty  feet  in  length,  fronting  the  south,  having  only  one 
door,  which  looked  likev^■ise  to  the  south.  A  yard,  with 
pickets,  about  six  feet  high,  inclosed  the  front  of  our  pri- 
son. The  area  of  the  yard  was  about  one  fourth  of  an  acre. 
This-  yard  was  made  in  a  square  form,  and  a  guard-house 
composed  a  part  of  the  yard,  standing  in  the  south-east 
corner.  There  was  a  passage  through  the  house,  by  which 
the  soldiers  on  guard  could  come  in  and  go  out  of  the  yard. 

The  ground  r.round  this  yard  was  considerably  .ligher 
than  it  was  v.ithin,  on  every  side  except  the  west,  where 
the  gate  was  placed  through  which  we  used  to  go  to  our 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  167 

work  in  the  shop.  There  v/as  a  brass  field-piece  placed 
about  ten  feet  from  the  guard-house,  upon  the  highest 
ground  on  the  island,  loaded  Mith  grape-shop,  and  a  sup- 
ply of  ammunition  constantly  by  it,  for  the  purpose  of  pre- 
venting vessels  from  passing  the  Castle  without  liberty. 

The  governor's  house  stood  on  the  bomb-proof,  and 
having  a  walk  upon  the  top  of  it ;  a  sentry  constantly*  stood 
there  to  observe  vessels,  kc. 

A  sentry  constantly  walked  in  the  yard,  to  observe  the 
motions  of  the  prisoners  ;  to  keep  them  from  coming  out 
of  the  prison  until  the  moment  in  which  orders  were  given 
for  them  to  turn  out  to  work  ;  to  give  the  guard  notice  at 
such  times,  Avho  were  all  under  arms,  the  moment  that 
our  doors  were  unlocked.  This  guard  consisted  of  a  ser- 
geant, corporal,  and  twelve  privates. 

There  was  a  row  of  barracks  a  little  distance  north  of 
the  governor's  house,  in  which  the  garrison  soldiers  lived. 
The  officers'  barracks  were  about  forty  rods  westward  of 
our  prison,  down  the  IhII,  contiguous  to  the  water.  The 
shop,  where  we  were  confined  to  labor,  was  about  forty 
rods  beyond  the  officers'  barracks,  in  a  southern  direction. 
When  we  were  turned  out  of  our  prison,  to  be  taken  to 
the  work-shop,  three  sentries  attended  lis,  who  perpetu- 
ally stood  round  the  shop,  to  hinder  any  prisoner  from 
leaving  it.  Here  we  continued  till  12  o'clock,  and  were 
th^n  taken  back  to  the  prison,  where  we  continued  half 
an  hour,  then  returned  to  the  shop  in  like  manner,  contin- 
uing our  work  tiii  sunset.  After  we  had  finished  our  day- 
labor,  we  were  put  into  the  prison,  and  confined  according 
to  the  usual  manner,  by  placing  a  couple  of  iron  bars»across 
the  outside  of  our  doors,  making  them  fast  by  letting  them 
into  two  staples. 

Matters  were  in  this  situation  on  the  island,  when  I 
concerted  the  plan  of  making  myself  master  of  this  place. 
My  idea  was  to  watch  some  favorable  moment,  to  rise  on 
a  sudden,  and  take  the  garrison  by  surprise,  when  thejr 
were  most  off  their  guard,  and  least  prepared  to  defend 
such  an  attack. 

I  endeavored  to  weigh  every  circumstance  relating  to 
the  time  and  manner,  ho^  to  make  this  attack  upon  the 


168  l^IEMOIRS  OF 

garrison.  I  communicated  my  views  to  Philips,  of  whose 
courage  and  valor,  I  had  the  highest  opinion.  I  had  like- 
wise the  firmest  confidence  in  his  wisdom,  to  plan  and 
pre-concert  a  system,  which  would  embrace  every  advan- 
tage, that  the  nature  of  the  thing  would  admit.  Various 
were  our  ideas  upon  the  subject.  Many  schemes  for  ex- 
ecuting our  plans  occurred  ;  but  none  of  them,  when  thor- 
oughly investigated,  butv/hat  had  many  difficulties,  almost 
insurmountable.  Once  we  had  determined  in  our  own 
minds  to  embrace  the  opportunity  of  coming  from  work, 
rush  upon  and  disarm  the  sentries,  who  were  guarding  us, 
and  with  our  hammers  and  the  arms  which  we  should 
take  from  the  sentry,  make  a  general  assault  upon  the  rest  ■ 
of  the  garrison. 

This  we  found  attended  with  the  following  difficulties, 
viz.  The  least  unusual  movement  by  us,  would  be  discov- 
ered by  the  sentiy  on  the  governor's  house,  who  would  in- 
stantly give  the  alarm  to  the  guard,  and  to  the  soldiers  in 
the  barracks,  where  arms  were  always  ready  ;  and  they, 
being  more  in  number  considerably  than  we,  and  being  all 
armed,  would  undoubtedly  overcome  us  with  ease,  seeing 
they  would  likewise  have  the  advantage  of  the  ground, 
being  at  the  heipit  of  the  hill,  and  we  at  the  bottom.  But 
this  was  not  all.  The  guard  were  within  a  few  paces  of 
that  field-piece  which  commanded  the  island,  and  when 
once  in  possession  of  that,  could  subdue  or  destroy  us,  in 
opposition  to  every  effort  which  we  could  make.  More- 
over, when  we  came  from  the  shop  to  the  prison,  the  com- 
manding officer,  Major  Perkins,  had  ever  his  attention 
upon  us,  and  observed  all  our  movements  with  the  great- 
est attention.  This  scheme  was  attended  with  so  many 
difficulties  which  appeared  insurmountable,  that  we  laid 
it  aside  as  impracticable. 

We  then  thought  of  embracing  the  opportunity  which 
Sunday  offered  to  rise  on  the  garrison.  Every  Sunday, 
the  soldiers  and  prisoners  were  assembled  in  one  of  the 
barracks  to  attend  divine  service.  The  soldiers  occupied 
one  end  of  the  barrack,  and  the  prisoners  the  other.  The 
garrison  generally  assembled  without  arms ;  and,  of  con- 
seg^uence,werc  not  so  formidable  in  that  situation,  as  when 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  169 

T:hey  had  their  guns  in  their  hands  loaded,  and  bayonets 
fixed.  The  guard,  however,  kept  their  places,  which 
rendered  this  project  klike  impracticable. 

The  greater  number  of  the  prisoners  were  at  this  time 
in  irons  ;  and  of  consequence,  when  we  should  attennpt  to 
make  prisoners  of  the  soldiers,  a  scuilie  would  uuavoida- 
bly  ensue  ;  and,  as  they  would  oat-number  us,  we  should 
have  but  a  bare  possibility  of  succeeding  even  with  the 
soldiers  in  the  barracks,  seeing  so  great  a  proportion  of  us 
were  in  irons  ;  and  should  we  succeed  in  this  respect,  yet 
the  guard  would  unavoidably  be  alarmed ;  and  being  in 
possession  of  the  field-piece,  they  could,  with  the  greatest 
ease,  sweep  us  away. 

These  difficulties  were  thought  too  great  to  make  the 
attempt  upon  the  garrison  in  that  way  :  they  v.ere  of  course 
given  up  as  impracticable.  We  finally  agreed  upon  the 
TTiorning,  as  the  best  time  to  execute  such  an  insurrection. 

We  were  awakened  by  the  overseer  about  half  way  be- 
tween day -break  and  sun-rise.  Immediately  after  the  words 
"  turn  out,  turn  out,"  had  been  given  by  the  overseer,  he 
retired,  and  was  generally  absent  about  half  an  hour,  when 
he  returned,  and  finding  us  all  dressed,  turned  us  out,  and 
took  us  to  the  shop  to  work.  The  doors  ot  our  prison 
were  not  fastened  in  this  interim.  The  guard  were  ynder 
arms,  and  the  sentry  walking  backv/ard  and  forward  be- 
fore our  door,  to  prevent  any  from  going  out. 

My  reasoning  upon  the  prospect  of  success  attending 
this  undertaking,  was  of  the  following  nature  :  "  It  is  nov.- 
warm  weather,"  said  I,  it  being  the  last  of  May,  or  the  be- 
ginning of  June ;  "  therefore,  sleep  has  the  most  power- 
ful effect  upon  man  in  the  cool  of  the  morning  ;  this  will 
prevent  the  officers  and  soldiers  sleeping  in  the  barracks 
from  being  so  easily  awakened  and  aroused.  The  first 
and  most  diScult  object  is  the  guard.  They  are,  at  such 
times,  under  arms,  and  therefore  under  a  situation  far  su- 
perior to  ours  ;  but,  as  we  could  out  number  them,  and  as 
I  entertained  an  opinion  of  the  prowess  of  the  priboners, 
far  beyond  that  of  the  soldiers,  I  think,  pretiy  probable, 
we  may  succeed  in  making  them  prisoners  Af.er  that 
object  should  be  effected,  then  it  will  be  easy  to  becon.c 
p 


MEMOIRS  OF 

master  of  the  field-piece,  and  when  that  is  obtained,  we 
ai  e  mi  sters  of  the  island  at  once.  When  we  become  mas- 
ters of  the  island,  we  are  in  a  situation  which  will  place  us 
upon  a  footing  of  no  mean  standing.  We,  by  being  mas- 
ters of  the  garrison,  become  likewise  possessed  of  the 
command  of  ihe  harbor  of  Boston  ;  of  all  the  vessels  going 
out  and  coming  in  ;  therefore,  can  appropriate  them  to 
what  use  we  lind  the  exigences  of  the  times  will  require. 
Wc  shall  likewise  be  in  possession  of  provision,  arms  and 
ammunition  of  every  kind.  W^arlike  stores  will  be  in  our 
power,  of  every  kind,  snould  we  find  occasion  to  use  them. 
1  think  that  the  prospect  of  escape  by  water,  after  we  have 
overcome  the  garrison,  will  be  more  eligible  than  to  at- 
tempt another  fight  by  land  :  and  as  it  wdll  be  in  our  pow- 
er to  arm  a  vessel,  and  equip  her  every  way  for  defence, 
and  a  long  voyage,  it  would  be  almost  impossible,  even 
should  they  pursue  after  and  overtake  us,  to  master  us  at 
sea.  W^e  shall  likewise  be  able  to  prevent  their  following 
us  from  the  harbor  of  Boston  with  any  great  strength,  by 
blowing  up  the  magazine,  and  spiking  the  cannon.  In 
this  situation,  I  would  leave  the  inimical  shores  of  Ameri- 
ca, and  rather  seek  an  asylum  among  the  inhospitable  in- 
habitants of  Barbary." 

These  were  the  outlines  of  my  plan  ;  and  I  determined 
to  make  one  powerful  effort  to  carry  it  into  execution. 
Either  to  lose  my  life  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  or  else  gain 
a  glorious  freedom.  And  now,  sir,  before  I  go  on  to  the 
relation  of  this  insurrection,  pevmit  me  make  some  reflec- 
tions upon  my  situation,  and  the  operations  of  my  mind 
under  it. 

I  had  ever  a  warmth  of  feeling  in  following  any  object 
of  pursuit,  perhaps,  peculiar  to  myself.  From  the  first 
moment  of  my  imprisonment,  I  felt  a  degree  of  insupport- 
able impudence  at  confinement,  and  an  ardent  desire  of 
the  enjoyment  of  liberty,  entirely  beyond  description.  The 
various  unfortunate  attempts  which  I  had  made  for  the 
pui-pose  of  liberating  myself,  did  not  serve  to  cool  my  ar- 
dor for  obtaining  this  object ;  but  my  desires  for  liberty 
increased  in  proportion  to  the  time  of  my  remiuning  con- 
fined; and  the  misfortunes  attending  it. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  171 

Reasoning  upon  the  various  occurrences  which  had  been 
closely  concerned  in  brins^ing  me  to  this  state  of  wretch- 
edness, and  upon  the  motives  by  which  I  had  been  actuat- 
ed under  every  scene  through  which  I  had  passed,  I  con- 
cluded that  my  punishment  was  greater  than  I  ought  to 
bear.  And  even  at  this  day,  I  am  under  great  doubts  how 
I  ought  to  have  acted  through  all  those  trying  scenes.  I 
know  much  is  due  to  government.  Personal  inconveni- 
ence is  to  be  borne,  rather  than  government  should  suffer 
any  injury,  and  for  this  plain  reason,  viz.  that  upon  the  un- 
interrupted administration  of  justice  by  government,  de- 
pends the  welfare  of  the  whole  community.  But  there 
are  circumstances  under  which  a  man  may  be  justifiable 
in  opposing,  at  least,  the  despotic  transactions  of  cruelty 
in  government  towards  an  individual.  WhethCi'  this  was 
the  case  with  me,  sir,  I  leave  you  to  judge. 

I  had  suffered,  during  my  state  of  confinement  in  North- 
ampton, the  most  unheard  of  course  of  illegal  cruelty,  and 
that  too  in  a  very  notorious  manner  ;  so  that  the  branches 
of  government  must  universally  be  apprised  of  it.  And 
this  punishmeot  was  inflicted  likewise  by  one  of  the  offi- 
cers of  government.  Therefore,  under  such  circum- 
stances, whether  I  had  not  just  reason  to  suppose  the  most 
arbitrary  and  unjust  measures  were  prescribed  against 
me  by  government,  your  own  good  sense  will  determine. 
This  officer  never  received  the  frov/ns  of  government  for 
his  conduct,  but  remained  in  high  favor  to  the  day  of  his 
death  :  neither  was  I  ever  compensated  for  the  injuries 
which  I  here  received. 

Moreover,  when  the  scene  was  reversed,  and  one  of 
their  number  became  dependent  upon  my  will  for  his  life, 
his  liberty,  and  his  safety  ;  and  under  that  situation,  I  had. 
put  my  ow^n  life  at  stake  to  save  his  ;  and  had  shielded  and 
protected  him  from  danger  in  the  time  of  his  distress  ;  af- 
ter this,  as  soon  as  I  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  govern- 
ment, what  was  their  laiiguage  ?  Why,  that  I  should  re- 
ceive an  hundred  lashes  at  the  postl ! 

I  recollect  to  have  read  an  account  respecting  a  Turk, 
'.vho  was  a  slave  in  Venice.  He  was  asked  by  a  Venetian 
merchant,  "  why  he  wore  that  c.£pect  of  perpetual  glocj  i 


172  MEMOIRS  OF 

on  his  countenance,  and  now  and  then  appeared  to  strag- 
gle to  suppress  the  starting  tear  r"  The  Turk  replied, 
*'  Can  it  appear  strange  to  you,  that  I  should  lose  enjoyment 
v.ith  the  loss  of  that  which  is  the  foundation  upon  which 
we  buiid  all  our  joy  r*'  ."  What  would  you  do,'*  said  the 
Venetian,  "  to  gain  your  liberty  i"  "  Ho,  by  Allah  1"  s*iid 
the  Turk,  "  name  the  conditions  :  place  danger  and  death 
before  me  in  their  most  horrid  forms  ;  and  if  I  do  not  pay 
the  price,  then  say  that  Hamet  is  not  worthy  of  liberty." 

When  I  heard  this  story  of  the  Turk  and  the  Venetian, 
my  feelings  entered  immecliately  into  the  meaning  of  the 
Turk's  observations.  I  could  there  discover  and  read  the 
language  of  the  human  heart,  notwithstanding  he  was  a 
Turk.  My  heart  panted  to  tell  him,  "  Yes,  thou  infidel 
Turk,  get  thee  hence  from  the  laud  of  Christianity,  and 
enjoy  the  pleasure  of  hberty,  even  in  thy  unbelieving 
country." 

His  feelings  were  what  mine  had  been  :  the  language 
of  the  heart  is  the  same  among  Turks  and  Christians, 
Jews  and  Gentiles,  See.  Sec.  8cc. 

"  Shame  on  that  heart  that  never  felt 
"  A  fellow-creature's  woes  ; — 
"  Yet  tenderly  affects  to  melt 
"  In  pity — for  a  rose." 

Sir,  accept  my  most  sincere  wish  for  your  happiness, 
combined  with  your  family's,  and  believe  me  to  be,  &c. 


CHAP.  XX. 


."  O,  cruelty ! 


*'  Thy  touch,  thy  dead'ning  touch,  has  steel'd  the  breast, 

"  Where,  through  her  rain-bow  shovvcr,  soft  pity  smil'd  ; 

**  Has  clos'd  the  heart,  each  God-like  virtue  blest, 

"  To  all  the  silent  pleadings  of  hxs  child. 

*'  At  thy  command  he  plants  the  dagger  deep, 

**  At  thy  command  exults,  tho'  nature  bid  him  weep  f 

XT  was  on  Sunday,  when  I  made  my  arrangements  among 
the  prisoners,  for  our  great  effort,  appointing  the  morning 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  17: 

following  for  the  time  of  operation.  There  were  35  prison- 
ers, in  whom  I  phiced  the  utmost  confidence,  as  to  their 
courage  and  undaunted  resolution.  Ten  of  whom  I  had 
selected  to  be  with  me  in  taking  the  guard  ;  and  twenty- 
five  I  had  left  to  be  headed  by  Philips,  who  were  to  repair 
immediately  to  the  barracks,  and  secure  the  officers  and 
arms  ;  intending,  if  possible,  to  accomplish  the  business 
without  blood-shed. 

After  I  had  made  the  necessary  dispositions,  I  exhort- 
ed the  prisoners,  "  to  be  firm  and  courageous ;  to  ab- 
stain from  all  acts  of  cruelty,  which  were  not  absolutely 
necessary  ;  and,  above  all  things,  to  pay  the  strictest  at- 
tention to  the  orders  given,  that  all  might  act  in  concert ; 
to  abstain  from  spirituous  liquors.'*  And  this  I  meant  to 
make  more  certain,  by  knocking  all  the  casks  on  the  head. 

As  taking  the  guard  was  much  the  most  difficult  part  of 
this  business  to  execute,  I  had  selected  out  ten  of  the  most 
desperate  fellows  among  the  prisoners,  to  follow  me.  I 
told  them  that  I  did  not  wish  for  them  to  go  further  into 
dangers  than  I  went  myself;  that  I  expected  them  to  fol- 
low and  support  me,  as  far  as  I  weni,  and  no  further.  To 
this  they  all  agreed,  without  the  least  hesiLaiion  ;  and  con- 
firmed their  agreement  by  the  most  solemn  assurance, 
th?.t  they  would  remain  by  me  till  death  or  liberty.  After 
all  matters  were  adjusted  upon  this  system,  we  went  to 
bed  with  all  our  clothes  on,  so  that  we  might  arise  the 
next  morning,  immediately  after  the  door  should  open, 
and  the  overseer  should  depart.  After  1  had  lain  down, 
the  importance  of  the  scene  before  me  kept  me  from  clos- 
ing my  eyes  through  the  whole  night. 

*'  Ha !  not  a  breath  of  vrind  !  no  gentle  breeze, 
"  To  fan  the  darksome  gloom  !  no  luIHed  wave 
"  Disturbs  this  silent  port  of  life,  nor  moves 
"  The  sleeping  calm  ;  a  death-like  silence  reigns. 
"  Those  storms  of  wrath,  that  oft  by  t}Tants  breath'd, 
"  Have  shook  the  trembling  world,  now  die  away ; 
*'  In  whispers  lost — the  froth  of  heighten'd  pride 
"  Beats  on  the  rocks,  and  wounds  itself  to  death : 
**  The  pomp  of  kings,  the  sycopliantic  breath 
"  Of  soothing  flatt'rers,  and  menial  crowds, 
"  The  voice  cf  slander,  the  destructive  bla.st=i 
p  2 


174  MEMOIRS  OF 

"  Of  env}%  self-distracting,  softly  seem, 
"  Like  dying  thunders  in  a  distant  cloud, 
"  Gently  to  vanish  from  the  list'ning  ear. 
"  Death,  rigid  death,  impartially  declares 
"  That  man  is  nothing  but  a  heap  of  dust, 
"  Clay-cold,  insensible.     Wipe  from  thy  cheek, 
"  O  man !  the  soft  emasculating  tear ; 
"  For  die  thou  must :  just  as  by  Natiu'e's  streams, 
-     "  In  easy  mazes  roll  thin  l\-mpid  tides, 

"  A  tribute  to  the  main.     Thus  art  thou  bora 

"  For  sliort-liv'd  glory — ^pre-ordain'd  to  die. 

**  Tlie  thoughts  of  obsequies,  convidsions,  groans; 

"  *Tis  these  distract  thy  soul.     The  kiss  of  death 

"  Is  soft  and  harmless.     Golden  rest  attends  it ; 

"  And  soon  dissolves  the  fearful  dream  of  life. 

"  Nature's  gi'eat^pv  is  death.     As  rising  flames 

"  Seek  their  congenial  place,  and  m.ount  to  heav'n, 

"  Thus  haste  we  to  our  end.     The  bloom  of  youth 

"  Expels  our  infant  years  :  then  hoary  age 

"  Encroaches  on  the  man,  and  shuts  the  scene." 

I  waited 'with  impatience  for  the  approach  of  morn. 
This,  of  all  nights  through  my  life,  appeared  the  longest. 
I  often  arose  and  went  to  the  grates  to  see  if  I"  could  dis- 
cern any  signs  of  day.  At  last  the  moment  appeared  !  I 
heard  the  overseer  enter  and  vociferate  with  great  clamor, 
"  turn  out,  turn  out,"  and  immediutely  departed. 

I  arose  with  precipitation,  and  hasted  to  gather  those 
who  were  destined  to  act  different  parts,  in  the  business, 
into  bodies  by  themselves.  I  observed  a  few  got  out  of 
their  bods  wiih  some  reluctance.  Philips  I  saw  appear^ 
ed  cxti-emely  pale.  I  asked  him  what  was  the  matter  ? 
lie  told  me  he  felt  sick.  I  answered,  that  the  moment 
did  not  admit  of  attention  to  sickness.  He  came  to  the 
spot  and  took  charge  of  his  men.  I  ordered  one  of  my 
men  to  secure  the  sentry  in  the  yard  the  moment  I  gave 
the  signal  for  starting.  He  took  a  stick  about  three  feet 
ion^  and  two  inches  in  diameter,  and  stood  ready  to  exe- 
cute his  part. 

When  I  tame  to  the  spot  where  I  could  observe  the 
guard,  T  saw  them  under  arms,  and  standing  in  the  door 
of  the  ^uard-housc,  with  their  bayonets  fixed.  This  sight 
was  by  no  means  calculated  to  ensure  our  success  ;  but 
^Dtkr.o'vin^  what  exeriion  would  eftect,  I  determined  to 


STEPHEN  BimROUGHS.  175 

make  the  push  at  all  hazards.  I  therefore  clapped  my 
hands,  the  signal  for  rushing,  and  sprang  forward  towards 
the  guard-house,  expecting  the  ten,  whom  I  had  appoint- 
ed to  that  business,  were  close  following  me-  The  sol- 
diers seeing  me  coming  towards  them,  presented  the 
points  of  their  bayonets  to  prevent  my  entering  the  guard- 
house. I  parted  the  bayonets  with  my  hands,  and  disarm- 
ed two  men  in  a  moment.  This  I  did  by  a  sudden  jerk, 
when  I  caught  hold  of  these  two  guns.  I  immediately 
turned  the  bayonets  towards  the  soldiers,  when  they  gave 
back,  and  I  entered  the  guard-house.  I  pronounced  im- 
mediate death  upon  any  one  who  dared  to  oppose  me.  I 
ordered  them,  in  a  very  peremptory  manner,  "  to  lay  down 
their  arms  and  retire  behind  the  guard-bed."  They  obey- 
ed— two  made  their  escape,  and  fled  out  of  the  guard- 
house, giving  the  alarm  to  the  ofFiCers  and  soldiers  in  the 
barracks,  together  with  the  sentry  on  the  governor's  house. 
When  I  entered  the  guard-house,  I  carried  with  me  two 
guns,  intending  to  give  one  to  the  first  who  followed  me, 
in  order  that  he  might  prevent  any  of  the  guard  from  es- 
<;aping  through  that  door,  and  to  secure  the  other  myself: 
wishing  to  prevent  any  alarm,  until  the  other  party  of 
twenty -five  had  time  to  get  to  the  barracks  ;  but  imagine, 
sir,  my  disappointment  and  astonishment,  when  I  looked 
and  saw  myself  alone,  without  one  of  the  prisoners  to  as- 
sist me  1 ! 

When  I  first  started,  Philips'  courage  failed.  He  turn- 
ed and  ran  into  the  room  out  of  which  he  came,  undressed 
and  jumped  into  bed.  The  rest,  seeing  this,  were  all 
struck  with  a  panic,  ran  back  and  went  to  bed  :  thinking 
by  this  mean  to  make  the  officers  believe,  that  they  had 
no  part  nor  lot  in  this  business.  Therefore,  I  found  the 
guard  my  prisoners,  and  myself  a  prisoner  to  the  guard. 

I  saw  the  soldiers  and  officers  from  the  barracks,  run- 
ning tovv^ards  the  guard  house,  with  their  clothes  in  the 
utmost  disorder  ;  some  half  dressed,  and  others  naked,  a 
shirt  excepted.  Seeing  the  day  was  lost,  I  turned,  and 
ran  Qut  of  the  guard-house,  making  again  towards  ths 
prison,  carrying  my  guns  with  me.  The  sergeant  of  the 
guard,  who,  but  a  minute  before,  had  been  begging  his 


176  MEMOIRS  OF 

life  in  the  most  abject  state  of  fear,  now  began  to  bustle 
towards  me  with  his  gun,  as  though  he  had  been  in  close 
contest  from  the  beginning,  and  intended  to  sacrifice  mc 
to  his  fury.  He  ran  after  me,  hallooing,  "  Burroughs, 
you  devil  you,  I'll  kill  you,  Til  kill  you."  I  turned  indig- 
nant towards  the  coward,  and  threw  my  guns  at  him  with 
the  points  of  the  bayonets  forward.  One  of  the  bayonets 
took  his  hand,  and  entered  the  skin  about  an  inch.  At 
this,  he  bawled  out  in  the  bitterest  manner,  "  I'm  wound- 
ed, I'm  killed!" 

The  officers  and  soldiers  rushed  into  the  prison,  laid 
hold  of  me,  and  brought  me  again  into  the  yard.  Major 
Perkins  with  his  sword,  lieutenant  Treat  and  Burbeck 
with  their  rattans,  were  all  lashing  me  at  once,  with  the 
greatest  violence.  At  this  crisis,  the  sergeant,  whom  I 
had  wounded,  came  up  with  his  gun,  and  struck  me  over 
the  head  with  all  his  might.  The  blood  flew  quick  into 
my  face,  I  moved  suddenly  towards  the  pitiful  villain  ;  at 
which  he  ran,  making  a  noise  more  like  a  calf  than  a  man. 

I  was  then  confined  by  a  pair  of  heavy  irons,  commonly 
called  shackles,  taken  to  the  whipping-post,  and  there  rp - 
ceived  an  hundred  stripes,  which  were  laid  on  in  a  very 
serious  manner,  causing  the  blood  to  stream  at  every 
stroke,  so  that  my  shoes  were  filled  by  the  lime  I  was  tak- 
en down. 

This,  sir,  was  a  heavy  stroke,  too  much  even  for  my 
iron  constitution  to  support.  I  fell  under  it.  A  fit  of 
sickness  succeeded,  vfhich  continued  about  three  months, 
making  the  prospect  doubtful  how  my  career  might  ter- 
terminate.  O  I  happy,  thrice  happy  should  I  have  been, 
had  I  fallen  here  I  and  closed  the  troubled  scene  of  life  ! 
"  O  terque,  quaterque  beati,  queis  Trojse  sub  maenibus- 
altis,  contigit  oppetere  I"* 

During  my  sickness,  I  had  to  contend  with  inconveni- 
ences of  no  small  magnitude.  There  was  no  provision 
made  for  the  sick  ;  therefore,  salt  beef  and  bread  were  all 
the  necessaries  provided  for  me  by  government.  A  med- 
ical gentleman,  from  the  town  ol  Boston,  influenced  by 

*  O  thrice,  and  four  times  happy  those,  v/ho  should  be  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  die  under  the  lofty  walls  of  Troy !  Yibgii. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  irr 

the  mere  emotions  of  compassion,  visited  me  under  this 
scene  of  distress,  and  administered  to  my  necessities.  The 
name  of  this  humane  ornament  of  nature  I  have  forgotten, 
but  think  it  was  Elliot. 

My  back  was  extremely  sore  ;  and  having  a  pair  of  hea- 
vy irons  on  my  legs,  I  could  lie  in  no  other  position  than 
on  my  back.  Major  Perkins  wished  to  liberate  me  from 
the  irons  around  my  legs,  during  the  fit  of  sickness,  but 
was  absolutely  forbidden  by  his  superiors,  until  near  two 
months  after  my  punishment,  when  he  was  allowed  to 
take  them  off. 

My  situation,  and  course  of  perpetual  suffering,  caused 
me  to  repine  bitterly  at  the  hand  of  fjrovidence.  It  a.p- 
peared  that  I  was  marked  out  as  an  object  for  the  heaviest 
strokes  of  misery  to  be  reiterated  upon,  until  I  should  be 
finally  swallowed  up  by  the  power  of  their  force.  Why, 
said  I,  should  all  this  befal  me  ?  Do  these  misfortunes  hap- 
pen as  a  punishment  to  vicious  conduct  ?  And  am  I  so  self- 
blinded  as  not  to  be  sensible  of  my  own  unheard  of  wick- 
edness ?  For  certainly,  if  the  wickedness  of  my  conduct 
has  been  equal  to  my  sufferings,  I  have  been,  of  all  man- 
kind, the  most  abandoned.  But,  said  I  again,  is  this  rea- 
soning just  ?  Do  the  wicked  suffer,  while  the  just  are  in  a 
state  of  constant  prosperity  ?  Let  us  advert  to  facts  for  evi- 
dence upon  this  subject. 

I  believe  that  matters  of  fact  will  prove,  that  the  best  of 
men  have  suffered,  in  this  state  of  imperfection,  in  an  equal 
degree  with  the  worst.  We  will  instance  Socrates  and 
Aristides  of  the  ancients,  and  the  immortal  Columbus, 
among  those  of  a  more  modern  date.  Many  instances 
might  I  produce  even  among  ourselves,  were  it  necessa- 
ry ;  but  one  moment's  reflection  upon  this  subject  is 
enough  to  confute  the  idea  entirely,  of  a  person's  misfor- 
tunes being  any  evidence  of  his  moral  turpitude.  Then 
why  is  it  that  some  are  marked  out,  in  the  course  of  events, 
to  endure  the  heaviest  strokes  of  misfortune  in  one  con- 
tinued series,  is  to  me  an  inexplicable  mystery  in  the 
course  of  Providence. 

Since  I  started  into  life,  how  has  my  course  been  che- 
(^uered !  Even  death,  the  last  resort  of  the  wretched,  has 


w8  MEMOIRS  OF 

fled  from  my  approaches,  as  thoughc  autious  of  his  friend- 
ly presence,  administering  comfort  rather  than  terror.  Is 
it  not  strange,  that  death  should  join  with  mankind,  and 
even  refuse  the  morsel  afforded  to  his  embrace,  in  order 
to  fill  up  my  measure  of  sufferings  ?  When  I  set  the  jail 
on  fire  at  Northampton,  I  thought  it  out  of  the  power  of 
malice  itself  to  prevent  the  approach  of  the  moment  of  my 
quietus;  but  was  disappointed.  I  then  expected  to  have 
found  an  end  to  my  trouble,  in  the  cold  embrace  of  death, 
in  the  dungeon  ;  and  here  I  found  the  tyrant  eluding  my 
pursuit.  When  I  rose  on  the  garrison,  it  appeared  to  me 
certain  that  I  should  meet  with  death  or  liberty,  but  alas  ! 
in  both  was  I  deceived.  Then  surely,  said  I,  this  punish- 
ment added  to  sickness,  must  close"  the  eventful  scene  ; 
but,  horrid  to  relate,  I  was  reserved  for  woes,  which  yet 
untold,  made  my  former  sufferings  vanish  awtiy,  as  not 
worthy  of  notice. 

Are  these  matters  painted  to  you,  sir,  in  colors  too  high 
for  the  simple  statement  of  facts  ?  No,  sir,  indeed  they  are 
truths,  the  force  of  which  I  must  feel  while  I  set  poring 
over  the  scenes ;  though  they  are  past  and  gone,  yet  have 
left  a  mortal  sting  behind. 

Soon  after  I  was  able  to  walk  about,  I  was  visited  by  a 
gentleman,  whose  name  I  never  recollect  without  feeling 
that  warmth  of  affection  and  glow  of  gratitude,  which  fills 
my  soul  with  rapture.  This  gentleman's  name  was  Sum- 
mers. He  was  my  father's  sister's  son.  He  commanded 
a  vessel  then  in  the  harbor  of  Boston.  He  possessed  an 
enlarged  mind,  which  looked  above  the  clamor  of  vulgar 
prejudice  ;  and  where  he  saw  the  course  of  humanity  lead, 
he  pursued  his  way,  let  it  be  ever  so  unpopular.  This 
gentleman  made  me  a  visit,  even  against  the  custom  of  the 
world.  He  was  the  first  relative  that  ever  came  or  sent  to 
me  on  this  gloomy  place.  He  saw  my  necessities.  He 
administered  to  my  relief.  He  poured  the  balm  of  conso- 
lation into  my  wounded  mind.  He  conducted  as  a  man 
ought  to  conduct,  who  is  governed  by  a  spirit  of  true  bene- 
volence. He  continued  to  visit  me  from  time  to  time, 
during  the  whole  course  of  my  confinem.ent  on  this  island. 

Having  been  disappointed  in  my  efforts  for  an  esccipe,' 
and  that  too  by  the  cowardly,  perfidious  conduct  of  my  fcl- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  179 

low-prisoners,  I  pretty  much  gave  up  the  idea  of  making 
any  further  attempts  for  my  liberation;  but  concluded  to 
reconcile  my  mind  in  the  best  manner  possible,  to  the  idea 
of  wearing  away  the  time  of  my  confinement.  I  therefore 
told  Major  Perkins,  that  I  would  give  up  the  idea  of  ever 
making  another  attempt  for  escape,  if  he  would  not  put 
me  in  irons,  give  me  the  liberty  of  the  island,  and  not  sub- 
ject me  to  the  direction  or  authority  of  Rifford,  the  over- 
seer. Major  Perkins  believed  me  sincere.  He  ever  had 
occasion  to  believe  what  I  told  him,  by  way  of  contract, 
while  I  was  under  his  care.  He  agreed  to  allow  me  the 
privilege,  provided  I  would  discover  any  attempt  of  the 
prisoners  to  escape.  I  told  Major  Perkins,  that  being  un- 
der the  same  condemnation  with  the  other  prisoners,  I 
had  no  intention  to  purchase  any  privilege  at  their  expense. 
That  I  shouid  by  no  means  give  them  any  aid  in  their  es- 
cape ;  neiiher  should  I  be  a  hindrance  to  them.  After 
some  days  trial  to  obtain  my  promise  for  discovering  any 
attempt  of  the  prisoners  to  procure  their  liberty,  without 
success,  he  agreed  to  my  proposal ;  and  gave  me  liberty 
of  going  to  any  part  of  the  island,  without  a  sentry  to  at- 
tend me. 

This  was  a  great  degree  of  freedom,  compared  with 
what  I  had  enjoyed  ;  and  therefore,  most  sensibly  felt. 
My  situation  was  as  eligible  as  the  nature  of  things  would 
admit ;  and  I,  even  in  this  state  of  servile  wretchedness, 
began  to  look  forward  with  the  pleasing  expectation  of 
of  better  days. 

"  Whatever  difF'rent  ways  mankind  pursue, 
"  O  happiness !  'tis  thee  we  keep  in  view  1 
"  'Tis  thee,  in  ev'ry  action  we  intend, 
"  The  noblest  motive,  and  superior  end ! 
"  Thou  dost  the  scarcely  finish'd  soul  inclines 
"  Its  first  desire,  and  constant  tho't,  is  thine  * 
"  Our  infant  breasts  ai-e  sway'd  by  thee  alone, 
"  "When  pride  and  jealousy  are  yet  unknown. 
"  Thou  art,  of  all  our  waking  thot's,  the  theme ; 
"  We  court  thee  too,  in  ev'iy  nightly  di-eam. 
"  Whither  the  roads  that  to  perdition  lead, 
"  Or  those  that  guide  us  to  the  stars,  we  tread  ; 
"  Thine  is  the  hope,  the  inestimable  prize, 
"  The  glorious  mark,  on  which  vre  fix  oiu-  eyes." 


180  MEMOIRS  OF 

About  this  time  an  incident  took  place,  which  gave  nie 
the  most  sensible  pain.  At  a  certain  time,  a  number  of 
people  from  Boston  came  on  to  the  island,  among  whom 
was  Thomas  Gushing,  son  to  the  lieutcnant-govenior. 
When  these  people  came  among  the  prisoners,  they  asked 
money  of  them,  as  was  the  general  custom.  Gushing  took 
a  dollar  out  of  his  pocket,  and  gave  it  me  ;  telling  me  at 
the  same  time,  to  give  each  of  the  prisoners  a  glass  of  rum 
out  of  the  avails  of  the  dollar ;  and  departed  without  wait- 
ing for  an  answer.  The  prisoner,  who  had  been  instru- 
mental in  obtaining  the  money,  entertained  an  idea  of  his 
being  entitled  to  a  larger  share  of  the  dollar  than  the  oth- 
ers ;  and  therefore  proposed  a  division  with  me.  My  re- 
j)ly  was,  that  the  money  was  given  to  me  for  a  particular 
purpose;  and  as  I  accepted  the  gift,  I  had  implicitly 
pledged  my  faith  to  execute  the  trust  reposed  in  me.  I 
told  him,  that  a  glass  of  rum  must  be  given  to  each  pris- 
oner, if  the  dollar  would  purchase  a  sufficient  quantity  for 
that  purpose  ;  and  that  I  should  perform  that  as  soon  as  I 
could  obtain  permission  of  Major  Perkins. 

I  accordingly  made  application  to  the  Major,  for  liberty 
to  give  the  convicts  a  glass  of  rum.  He  told  me,  that  it 
was  out  of  his  power  to  grant  my  request  at  that  time  ;  but 
that  Governor  Gushing  would  be  on  the  island  in  a  few 
days  ;  that  he  would  consult  him  on  the  subject,  and  see  if 
it  would  answer  to  grant  such  permission. 

While  I  was  waiting  the  issue  of  this  business,  Thomas 
Gushing  came  on  to  the  island  again  ;  and  the  prisoner. 
Mount,  by  name,  who  had  asked  him  for  money  before, 
now  made  application  again  for  more  mone)t.  Gushing 
answered  Mount,  that  he  thought  it  a  shame  for  him  to 
ask  for  money  again,  so  soon  after  leaving  a  dollar  with 
Burroughs  for  them  all.  Mount  told  him,  that  Burroughs 
had  kept  the  money  himself,  and  the  other  prisoners  had 
received  nothing.  Gushing  then  asked  for  an  explanation 
of  the  business.  I  told  him  how  the  matter  was  situated  ; 
and  rejoined,  that  I  would  divide  the  money,  if  that  was 
agreeable  to  his  feelings.  He  left  me  without  an  answer. 
Not  long  after.  Gushing  being  in  company  with  a  number 
of  gentlemen  in  Boston,  amongst  whom  w»s  a  Mr.  May, 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  131 

a  rational  philanthropist ;  he,  in  a  pompous  declaration  re- 
specting his  own  excellent  q\ialiiies  of  heart,  related,  that 
he  had  given  three  dollars  to  Burroughs,  for  the  prison- 
ers, and  that  Burroughs  had  appropriated  them  to  his  own 
use,  refusing  to  participate  with  any  others  in  the  benefit 
of  the  money.  Mr.  .May  entered  with  warmth  into  the 
subject,  and  when  he  saw^  me,  expostulated  upon  the  im- 
propriety of  my  conduct ;  and  wi^en  I  g^ve  him  a  simple 
narration  of  facts,  he  seemed  to  hesitate  about  giving  cre- 
dit to  a  report  so  different  from  Cushing*s. 

This  circumstance,  you  may  think,  was  of  too  small  con- 
sequence to  find  a  place  in  this  narration ;  but  the  reason 
why  I  relate  it,  is  the  disagreeable  effect  it  had  upon  rny 
mind  ;  having  met  wMih  but  few  incidents  wliich  have  giv- 
en me  keener  sensations,  than  this  trivial  occurrence. 

As  the  remaining  part  of  my  confinement  was  ended 
-without  any  very  remarkable  occurrence,  I  will  not  dwell 
upon  the  uninteresting  events ;  but  only  observe,  that  the 
terms  of  agreement  between  the  Major  and  myself^  were 
ever  kept  inviolate  by  both  parties.  I  will,  likewise,  give 
you  an  extract  of  some  letters  which  passed  betv/cen  me 
and  my  friends,  while  I  remained  here,  and  then  pass  from 
the  disagreeable  subject. 

The  first  letter  I  received  was  from  that  uncle,  who  liad 
relieved  me  in  NorthamJJton  4  It  was  to  the  following 
amount : 

Charlton^  April  20 th^  1788. 
Beloved  A'spheiv, 

I  sincerely  wish  and  hope,  that  your  long  and  painful 
confinement  may  prove  an  advantage  to  you,  by  giving  you 
time  to  reflect,  seriously,  upon  your  past  misconduct.  As 
that  was  in  your  thoughtless  and  youthful  days,  and  as  you 
have  now  arrived  to  the  age  of  maturity,  I  beg  of  you  to 
consider  with  yourself,  seriously,  what  an  awful  and  disar 
greeable  situation  you  will  soon  be  in,  after  you  are  liberat- 
ed, if  you  should  enter  into  an  unlawful  course  of  life.  As 
you  have  now,  by  experience,  tasted  of  the -evil  nature  of 
transgression,  and  are  nov/  in  a  situation  to  figure  to  your- 
self the  happy  condition  of  those,  who,  by  a  course  of  hon- 
est industr)',  procure  for  themselves  and  their  dependents, 


32  MEMOIRS  OF 

an  honorable  and  honest  living  through  life.  I  wish  you 
3iiay  exercise  that  wisdom  which  nature  has  given  you,  to 
learn  the  difference  between  a  regular  life  and  a  course  of 
unlawful  pursuits.  You  must  be  sensible,  that  you  will 
not  only  render  yourself  happy  by  a  course  of  regular  con- 
duct, but  will  greatly  increase  the  happiness  of  your  rela- 
lations,  and  all  who  wish  you  well.  We  all  hope  and  de- 
sire, that  you  will  be  so  kind  to  yourself  and  to  us,  as  to 
coolly  and  faithfully  improve  the  good  sense  and  reason 
wiiich  the  all-wise  Being  has  so  bountifully  bestowed  up- 
on you  ;  and  I  think  that  under  the  influence  of  this  rea- 
son, you  will  immediately  after  your  liberation,  repair  to 
your  parents,  or  to  my  house,  or  to  some  of  your  relations, 
who  can  help  you  to  l3usiness,  and  to  those  things  you  will 
be  destitute  of,  and  without  which,  you  will  be  very  un- 
comfortable. By  doing  this  you  will  avoid  many  great 
and  trying  temptations. 

I  am  in  no  doubt  but  by  a  steady  uniform  course  of  m^U 
doing,  you  may  re-establish  your  reputation,  and  again  be 
a  serviceable  member  of  society.  On  the  contrary,  should 
you  again,  at  this  time  of  life,  return  to  bad  courses,  eve- 
ry one  would  despair  of  your  ever  reforming,  and  you  must 
be  lost  forever  ;  which  may  the  all-wise  Being  enable  you 
to  prevent,  by  a  wise  and  virtuous  course  of  life,  for  the 
future,  is  the  sincere  desire  and  prayer  of  your  most  af- 
fectionate uncle. 

EBENEZER  DAVIS. 

Soon  after  the  receipt  of  the  foregoing  letter,  I  receiv- 
ed another  from  my  mother's  youngest  brother,  to  the 
following  import : 

Oxford,  May  \2th,  1788. 
Dear  JS^ephejv, 

A  recent  opportunity  has  given  me  the  pleasure  of  hear- 
ing that  your  conduct  has  been  good  and  unexceptionable, 
since  your  unftrtuniite  attempt  on  the  garrison.  I  enter- 
tijn  the  most  ardent  desire  that  it  may  continue. 

Your  long  and  severe  confinement  is  almost  at  an  end. 
Soon  again  you  will  taste  the  sweets  of  liberty,  of  which 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  183 

you  have  been  deprived  so  lon^.  I  should  advise  you,  by 
all  means,  to  return  to  your  friends.  You  are,  and  will 
be,  destitute  of  clothes  when  your  time  of  servitude  has 
expired  ;  therefore,  without  clothes,  without  friends,  with- 
out money,  and  coming  off  the  Castle  with  the  prejudices 
which  mankind  entertain  against  one  who  has  been  con- 
fined there^  you  will  find  it  impossible  to  gain  a  subsis- 
tence among  mankind,  in  an  honest  way,  without  you  come 
to  your  friends,  who  can  help  you  to  those  things  which  you 
wiH  stand  in  need  of.     I  remain  your  affectionate  uncle, 

JONATHAN  DAVIS. 

Hanover^  October  \6th,  1787. 
Dear  Child, 

It  is  notour  present  object  to  lay  open  to  your  view  the 
bleeding  hearts  of  your  parents.  The  attempt  would  be 
in  vain  ;  for  it  is  wholly  beyond  the  power  of  language  to 
express.  If  the  reports  be  true  with  respect  to  the  atro- 
city of  your  conduct,  we  cannot  but  acquiesce  in  the  met.s- 
iires  taken  by  government  to  punish  suph  acts,  which  are 
pregnant  with  ruin  to  the  civil  commun^y.  Did  we  pay 
attention  to  nothing  but  the  yearnings  of  our  hearts  to- 
wards you  ;  did  we  consult  nothing  but  the  dictates  of  nat- 
ural affection  ;  to  part  with  an  only  son  in  this  manner  ; 
to  consider  you  as  being  lost  to  God,  to  your  parents,  and 
to  your  generation  ;  is  a  consideration  which  would  swell 
the  tide  of  our  sorrows,  and  render  them  like  an  overflow- 
ing deluge.  But  we  fully  believe,  that  our  times  and 
changes  are  in  God's  hands ;  that  he  has  given  us  this 
cup  of  trembling,  and  that  it  becomes  us  to  be  still  under 
this  severe  stroke  of  his  rod.  What  further  trials  he  mav 
mete  out  for  us,  in  his  dealings  with  you,  we  know  not ; 
but  this  .one  thing  we  know,  thrtt  in  reh.tion  to  any  thing 
that  may  concern  you  in  futuc^it  becomes  us  to  cast  all 
our  care  upon  God  and  to  leavlPfou  in  his  hands. 

When  we  recollect,  that  there  is  yet  a  jprobability,  that 
■we  may  see  you  again,  and  behold  in  your  conduct  the  fruits 
of  repentance  for  your  misconduct ;  v.e  cannot  help  feast- 
ing our  hearts  with  such  a  pleasing  contemplation.  No- 
thing which  this  world  could  afford,  would  be  greater 
comfort  to  us,  than  your  return  under  such  a  situation. 


i8^  MEMOIRS  OF 

In  the  mean  time,  it  is  our  ardent  and  pressinj^  desire, 
thiit  your  behavior  ;rind  conduct  may  be  framed  in  such  a 
inunner,  as  to  be  to  the  good  acceptance  of  those  who  are 
appointed  to  have  the  oversi.^ht  of  you,  during  the  remain- 
der of  that  servitude  to  which  you  are  confined. 

It  has  ever  opened  the  avenues  of  grief,  and  added  fresh 
i.njuish  to  our  sorrows,  to  hear  of  any  attempts  in  you,  to 
get  free  from  your  confinement  by   unwarrantable  meas- 

UlCH. 

it  would  be  acceptable  to  us,  to  have  a  line  from  yt>u, 
specifying  the  state  of  your  mind,  and  what  your  purpos- 
es are,  in  relation  to  your  future  pursuits.  In  the  mean 
time,  take  this  as  a  testimony  of  love  intermingled  with 
the  most  heartfelt  grief  and  anguish,  from  your  afflicted 
iir.d  sorrowful  parents, 

E.  and  A.  BURROUGHS. 

Castle-Ialand,  J^''ovember  27 th^  1787. 
Honored  and  dear  PaxenTs, 

Your  favor  of  ,the  16th  ult.  was  duly  received.  Were 
I  to  undeitake  to  describe  the  sensations  which  it  created, 
I  know  I  should  f.iil  in  the  attempt. 

Notwitlistandin;^  my  being  considered  as  an  outcast 
among  mankind  ;  and  under  that  consideration,  treated 
as  the  worst  of  villains,  and  vilest  of  slaves,  yet  it  has  not 
dissolved  that  tie  of  natural  affection  which  binds  me  to 
tirose  who  gave  me  breath. 

'i'o  undertake  a  vindication  of  my  conduct,  is  an  object 
enLirely  out  of  my  view  at  present ;  but  I  would  suggest, 
the  same  naturLd  course  attends  common  fame,  when  ap- 
piied  to  me,  as  it  univers;.diy  ha^  done  vvhen  applied  to  any 
other  person  or  object ;  therefore,  wish  you  to  make  those 
aliowonces,  which  cuidor  will  dictate  under  my  peculiar 
i^iluation.  i^^^ 

Could  you  read  th^H^age  of  my  heart,  you  would 
there  see  the  most  sincere  desire  for  your  comfoit  through 
liie.  My  situation  is  such,  I  am  seni.ible,  as  to  offer  no 
very  plc.bing  view  to  the  minds  of  parents  towards  a  child  ; 
yet,  it  is  a  situation,  which  at  present  is  out  of  m.y  power 
to  alter.     The  Ume  will  come,  when  I  shall  ?gain  be  call- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  186 

cd  to  act  my  part  on  the  stage  of  life,  as  a  member  of  the 
civil  community  ;  that  time  Avill  discover  whether  the 
principles  of  virtue  are  the  governing  laws  of  my  mind. 
I  feel  my  task  too  arduous  and  difficult.  Life's  path  is 
environed  with  errors,  thick  on  every  side.  I  shall  have 
the  passions  and  prejudices  of  a  hard  hearted  world  to 
con\bat ;  whether  I  shall  be  competent  to  the  task,  is  yet 
in  the  womb  of  futurity.  It  must  be  a  most  pleasing  ob- 
ject with  m.e,  once  more  to  mix  with  society  upon  honor- 
able terms,  and  enjoy  the  blessings  of  friendship,  after  be- 
ing shutout  from  those  enjoyments  this  length  of  time. 

As  to  the  object  of  my  pursuits,  after  my  time  of  servi- 
tude shall  expire,  I  candidly  declare,  that  I  have  not  fixed 
upon  any.  I  should  receive  any  advice  upon  that  subject, 
from  you  with  pleasure. 

As  to  the  state  of  my  mind  ;  I  view  myself  as  an  in- 
habitant of  a  vacant  desolate  country.  There  are  none 
amongst  all  the  world  to  whom  I  feel  thatglovv  of  friend- 
ship, together  with  an  ecjuality  of  statioriihliich  renders 
society  pleasing.  Long  as  I  have  remaiTOBr  in  the  con- 
verse and  society  of  this  motly  collection  of  charactersj  of 
which  the  convicts  are  composed,  yet  I  have  no  relish  for 
their  society. 

Should  I  receive  no  assistance  from  my  friends,  at  the 
time  of  my  departui^  from  this  place,  I  must  leave  the 
island  absolutely  naked  ;  having  long  since  parted  v/ith  all 
my  own  clothes  to  satisfy  the  calls  of  hunger-  I  am,  with 
duty  and  esteem,  vour  affectionate  son, 

SPEPHEN  BURROUGPIS. 

E.  and  A.  Burroughs. 


About  three  weeks  previous  totbe  expiration  of  the 
time  of  my  confinement,  my  un^jMbenezer  Duyis  came 
to  see  me  on  the  island,  brough^^e  some  clothes,  and 
gave  me  money  sufficient  to  provide  myself  with  v.hat 
things  were  necessary  to  my  making  a  decent  appearance, 
and  likewise  to  support  myself  on  the  road  to  his  house. 
The  happy  moment  arrived  I  How  beautiful  was  that  d.^y  I 
Of  all  the  days  of  my  life,  this  was  the  most  beautiful  aLcl 
serene.  The  verv'  heaven  and  elements  were  in  unison 
q  2 


186  MEMOIRS  OF 

uith  my  feelings.  I,  for  the  first  timcj  for  the  term  of 
thirty  montlis,  dressed  myself  in  clean,  decent  apparel. 
1  heard  the  sentence  from  majcu-  Perkins,  "'  Burroughs, 
you  ra-e  free,"  Avith  a  sensation  orjoy  that  is  inexpressible. 
My  heart  bounded  like  tlie  roe  on  the  mountain  1  I  went 
into  the  boat,  the  sea  was  smooth,  and  the  wind  was  calm  1 
the  heavens  were  mild  and  serene  ;  the  sun  was  beauti- 
ful beyond  description  !  the  boat  glided  over  the  smooth 
surface  cf  the  waters  with  a  facility  that  was  enchanting  t 

"  Sweet  memon-,  Ava-fced  by  tlie  ^ntle  gale, 

"  Oft  up  llie  tide  of  time  I  turn  iny  sail, 

"  To  view  the  fuiry  haimts  of  long  lost  hours, 

"  Blest  with  far  greener  shades,  fur  fresher  bow'rs." 

Having  now  ended  in  my  narrative  a  tedious  and  bitter 
confinement,  which  lasted  me  three  y&ars  and  five  weeks, 
I  will  here  end  this  letter.  I  wish  to  make  some  refiec- 
lions  upon  the  nature  of  the  punishment  by  servitude  ; 
and  as  that  wijjpfeike  up  too  much  time  for  this,  I  will  re- 
serve it  for  t^  subject  of  another  letter.  In  the  mean 
time  believe  me  as  u:.u^l,  &c. 


CHAP.  XXI. 

'^Bicsl  be  that  hfend  divine,  wlilcli  gently  laid 
"  My  heart  at  rest,  beneath  this  huir.ble  sjied. 
*•  The  world's  a  stalely  bark  on  dangerous  seas, 
"  With  pleasure  soeii,  but  boaixlcd  at  our  peril. 

JjLvS  I  i'.uimated  to  you,  sir,  in  my  last,  that  the  subject  of 
this  letter  would  be  a  consitleration  of  the  nature  of  pun- 
scrvitudfligj^ow  take  up  that  matter  in  obe- 
ly  promiseWWThis  is  a  subject  of  which  I  have 
ation  in  some  measuve ;  and  therefore,  may 
to  know  its  natural  effect  upon  the  human 
heart,  as  well  as  most  men. 

The  object  of  punishment  ever  ought  to  be  the  preser- 
vation i)i  the  good  order  of  society,  by  a  reformation  of 
those  who  are  cisordei  j  through  a  vicious  disposition,  or 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

a  mistaken  apprehendon  cf  matters.  The  Lcncoty  of  a 
legislative  body  will  ever  point  at  that,  and  their  lav*  3  will 
ever  affect  that  where  2  sufficient  fund  of  information  di- 
lects  their  les-islative  acts.  Whether  the  system  cf  ser- 
-viiude  upon  its  present  establishment,  does  answer  the 
purpose  of  producing  a  reformation  in  the  disoidcrly,  is 
the  question  now  under  consideration. 

There  was  en  the  Castle  an  assemblage  of  characters 
from  various  parts  of  the  globe  :  some  old  in  iniquity,  and 
others  but  timid  beginners  in  the  ways  cf  transgression. 
Here,  the  objects  cf  honor  and  promotion  were  reveised. 
In  a  winter  evening's  tale,  you  would  not  hear  the  feats  of 
virtue  recounted  as  a  recommendaticn.  These  v.  ere  ob- 
jects treated  with  contempt.  On  the  other  hand,  that 
person  who  could  relate  the  most  desperate  and  daring 
transgression  of  the  laws  of  national  justice,  was  consider- 
ed the  most  honorable  character  among  the  prisoners  ; 
while  those,  who  were  novices  in  wickedness,  shrunk  from 
an  examination  of  their  deeds,  and  felt  a  degree  of  little- 
ness, because  they  had  nothing  worthy  of  giving  them- 
selves a  name  among  those  heroes  of  the  night. 

The  natural  effect  of  this  you  will  easily  conceive. 
Where  our  ambition  leads  -we  generally  make  progress. 
Those  who  would  blush  at  the  thought  of  their  illicit  con- 
duct when  they  first  arrived  at  the  Castle,  would  now  soon- 
er blush  at  the  small  part  which  they  have  acted  in  the 
way  cf  transgression. 

They  would  listen  with  attention  to  the  acts  of  those 
whom  they  considered  as  their  masters  in  iniquiiy ;  this 
is  a  lesson  but  too  easily  learnt.  Their  whole  object  was, 
discovering  and  inventing  means  to  carry  tlieir  diabolical 
puiposes  into  execution  immediately  upon  their  liberation. 
Finally,  this  of  all  others,  was  the  most  perfect  school  of 
vice  that  I  ever  saw.  For  a  man  to  remain  uncontaminat- 
ed  by  this  society,  after  continuing  in  it  a  number  of  years, 
he  must  have  more  solid  philosophy^  than  I  believe  man- 
kind generally  possess.  Under  these  circumstances,  how 
can  this  institution  serve  to  reform  the  morals  of  men  ? 
Facts  prove,  that  instead  of  becoming  good  members  cf 
society,  the  convicts  have  generally,    taken  to  a  courss 


o8  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  the  most  arocious  transgressions  after  their  libera- 
tion. 

Indeed,  the  situation  of  the  prisoners  is  such,  vvhen  they 
re  liberated,  that  all  motives  for  doing  v/ell  are  taken 
.way.  They  generally,  at  that  time,  find  themselves  naked, 
moneyless,  and  friendless.  Tlieir  previous  confinement 
on  the  Castle  is  a  suivicient  objection  to  their  being  em- 
ployed in  business  ;  therefore,  supposing  them  possessed 
of  virtuous  principles,  v.-hatcan  such  virtues  do  in  this  situ- 
ation. They  ha^  e  the  same  necessities  to  supply  that  oth- 
er men  have,  and  where  they  fmd  that  government  has 
not  only  confined  them  to  servitude  for  a  number  of  years, 
but  has,  moreover,  taken  away  the  prospect  of  earning  a 
small  pittance  of  bread  by  industry,  will  the  feelings  of  na- 
ture allow  them  to  consider  any  obligation  which  govern- 
jnent  may  require,  as  binding  ? 

I  saw  the  effects  of  this  system  of  servitude  whilst  I  was 
a  prisoner  on  the  Castle.  I  published  my  sentiments  upon 
the  subject  for  the  consideration  of  the  legislature.  Little 
attention  was  paid4o  my  reasoning,  in  so  low  a  situation. 
Had  these  sentiments  come  from  one  in  a  more  exalted 
station,  they  might,  perhaps,  have  been  understood  better, 
and  the  reasoning  upon  such  a  subject  been  more  clear 
and  convincing. 

I  will  not  detain  you  with  any  further  observations  upon 
this  subject,  but  proceed  in  the  narrative. 

I  went  immediately  to  the  house  of  Richard  Devens, 
Esq.  with  whom  I  took  breakfast,  having  received  a  pre- 
vious invitation  for  that  purpose  before  I  left  the  island. 

Immediately  after  breakfast,  the  good  old  man,  taking 
me  into  a  private  room,  entered  into  conversation  upon 
my  present  prospects.  I  tolcl  him  that  I  had  concluded 
to  repair  to  my  uncle's  at„pharlton,  who  had  supplied  rae 
with  ncces^ries  for  my  appearing  again  in  the  world.  It 
appeared  to  rejoice  him  to  hear  that  I  was  not  left  friend- 
less. He  said  he  had  it  in  contemplation  to  help  me,  if  no 
other  person  appeared  for  that  purpose.  He  gave  me 
counsel  as  a  parent  would  give  to  a  child.  He  appeared 
to  be  interested  in  my  future  welfare.  He  presented  mc 
with  a  dollar,  wishing  me  to  accept  it  as  a  token  of  his  es- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  189 

teem,  and  good  wishes.*  After  this,  I  immediately  re- 
paired to  Long  Wharf,  where  Capt.  Summers  lay  with 
his  vessel.  I  here  met  that  philanthropist  upon  the  shores 
of  liberty,  who  had  so  often  relieved  my  distress  in  a  state 
of  slavery.  My  sensations  at  this  meeting  were  exqui- 
sitely pleasing.  I  tarried  with  him  two  days  ;  and  during 
that  time  an  accident  took  place  which  gave  me  an  op- 
portunity of  feeling  the  extremes  of  pain  and  joy  in  a  very 
ahort  space.     The  matter  was  this  : 

Capt.  Summers  coming  into  his  cabin  at  a  certain  time, 
where  he  had  left  me,  missed  his  watch,  which  he  sup- 
posed he  had  left  hanging  in  the  cabin.  He  enquired  of 
all  the  hands  whether  they  had  seen  or  taken  his  watch 
from  the  place  where  he  left  it.  Their  answers  were  in 
the  negative.  He  asked  if  any  body  had  been  on  board 
the  vessel  that  morning  ;  they  said  no.  I  saw  his  coun- 
tenance was  troubled.  He  felt  in  a  situation  too  delicate 
to  know  what  measure  to  take.  My  feelings  at  this  time 
were  as  disagreeable  as  though  I  had  been  covered  with 
burning  embers.  I  knew  that  the  appearance  must  be 
that  I  had  taken  the  watch.  No  other  person  could  take 
it.  The  watch  was  gone.  What  a  horrid  figure  of  in- 
gratitude I  must  now  make,  said  I,  in  the  mind  of  that 
man,  abore  all  others,  to  whom  I  wish  to  appear  amiable  ! 
A  single  word  was  not  uttered  for  the  course  of  half  an 
hour.  A  diimal  gloom  hung  over  the  countenance  of  ev- 
ery one  present ;  at  length  we  were  ail  relieved  by  the 
arrival  of  the  mate,  who  brought  the  watch  on  board,  hav- 
ing carried  it  to  a  watch-maker  to  have  some  work  done  to 
it  which  WU3  necessary. 

The  sight  of  the  \v\itch  instantly  dispelled  the  gloom 
from  every  countenance  ;  we  ail  feit  the  erlects,  as  though 
a  shock  of  electricity  had  operated  upon  us.  Captain 
Summers  burst  into  a  laugh,  patting  me  on  the  shoulder,, 
saying,  ''one  hundred  doliari  .vould  net  make  me  lo  ghid 
as  the  sight  of  that  watch." 

*  Burroughs  has  given  a  true  specimen  cf  this  gentleman's  cuur- 
acter  Ihrougli  a  long  life.  He  has  lately  gone  to  receive  tiijs  re* 
waji-as  -f  tLe  righteous  li\  a  letter  -.vorll 


190  MEMOIRS  OF 

My  sensations  were  too  violent  for  utterance  ;  I  could 
not  reply  ;  I  felt  wounded  to  death,  that,  even  for  one  mo- 
ment, a  jealousy  should  remain  in  the  breast  of  Captain 
Summers,  of  my  treachery  towards  him  ;  yet,  what  gave 
me  such  exquisite  pain  was,  that  circumstances  were  in 
such  a  train,  that  he  could  not  avoid  such  a  jealousy. 

I  visited  a  number  of  my  acquaintance  during  this  shoit 
residence  in  Boston  ;  among  whom  was  a  Mr.  Bingham, 
wiio  was  cotemporary  with  me  in  College.  This  man  had 
a  warm  heart,  friendly  to  mankind,  scrupulously  nice  in 
every  principle  of  justice,  regulating  his  conduct  by  the 
exactest  rules  of  propriety.* 

After  this  I  took  leave  of  all  my  acquaintance  in  Bos- 
ton, and  measured  back  that  road  which,  nearly  three  years 
before,  I  had  been  carried  through,  bound  with  chains,  to 
Glazier  Wheeler.  Before  I  left  Boston,  Capt.  Summers 
oftered  to  supply  me  with  a  sum  of  money,  for  my  present 
necessities  ;  but  as  I  had  a  sufficiency  already  for  my  trav- 
eling expenses,  until  I  should  arrive  at  my  uncle's,  in 
Charlton,  I  declined  accepting  his  offer,  seeing  he  had 
been  so  bountiful  towards  me  already. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  September,  when  I  walked  thro* 
the  country.     To  visit  again  the  varied  scenes  of  nature  ; 
to  be  at  liberty,   and  without  the  least  restraint ;  ramble 
through  the  country,   was  a  luxury   of  enjoyment   which 
only  those  can  feel  who  have  been  in  my  situation. 
"  ILiil,  memory  hail !  in  thy  exhaustless  mines 
"  Fi'om  age  to  age,  unninnber'd  treasuj-es  shine ! 
•'  Tiiouglit  and  her  shadow)"  brood  th_v  calls  obey, 
*'  And  place  and  time  are  subjects  to  tJiy  sway !" 

*  Some  of  his  old  acquaintance  were  blamed  by  their  friends  for 
being  seen  in  Ins  comjoany  at  this  period  ;  and  it  is  but  justice  to 
state  the  motives  of  the  former.  They  knew  his  cxcelloU  parents  ; 
they  were  sensible  that  the  feelings  of  these  parents  were  wrought 
up  to  the  highest  pitch,  at  this  all  important  crisis,  in  the  fate  of 
their  only  son.  Eiu-roupfhs  gave  the  most  positive  assurances  of  ex- 
erting all  his  powers  to  retrieve  his  character.  Had  his  old  fi'iends 
forsaken liira  at  this  eventful  i>eriod,  what  would  he  have  done? 
Probably  lie  would  have  immediately  resorted  to  his  former  coiirses; 
and  the  doating  pai'cnls  would  have  accused  these  friei^ds  of  being' 
instrumental  of  blasting  all  their  hopes.  They  also  thouglit  it  their 
duty  to  .afrbrd  the  sim  all  tlie  supi;ort  in  their  power,  v/hile  he  ap- 
peru'cd  to  be  in  earnest  to  regain  his  reputation. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  191 

I  arrived  in  Charlton  the  second  day  after  my  leaving 
Boston.  As  no  immediate  business  offered,  I  concluded 
to  turn  my  attention  to  manual  labor,  until  some  opportu- 
nity should  offer  for  my  attending  to  other  business.  I 
went  to  work  among  the  common  laborors  of  my  uncle. 
This  was  somewhat  mortifying ;  but  I  was  determined  to 
endure  any  inconvenience,  rather  than  give  the  least  idea 
to  any  of  my  friends  that  I  was  not  willing  to  use  such 
means  as  I  possessed  to  gain  an  honest  support.  I  con- 
tinued in  this  business  about  one  month,  hoping  to  obtain 
a  school  in  this  or  some  of  the  neighboring  to\vns,  as  soon 
as  the  season  should  approach  for  that  business. 

I  will  here  give  you  an  extract  of  a  letter  from  my  un- 
cle to  my  father,  about  this  time. 

Charlton^  25th  October^  1788. 
Dear  brother  and  sts^er, 

Your  son  Stephen  is  now  with  me,  and  has  been  the 
greater  part  of  the  time  since  his  having  left  the  Castle. 
He  works  very  steady  with  my  folks  on  the  farm.  He 
has  some  prospect  of  teaching  a  school  within  this  town, 
or  in  Oxford. 

He  wishes  you  to  write  respecting  your  desire,  relating 
to  his  further  pursuits ;  whether  you  would  have  him  try 
to  obtain  business  in  these  parts,  or  return  home,  in  order 
to  enter  into  business  with  you.  He  appears  to  have  abil- 
ity for  farming,  and  as  you  have  a  large  farm,  should  he 
prove  tolerable  steady,  he  woul^  greatly  tend  to  ease  you 
of  a  great  deal  of  care  and  troufejie  ;  and  it  would,  likewise, 
be  advantageous  to  him. 

He  must  have  some  way  for  a -subsistence  ;  and  there  is 
none  attended  with  less  temptations  than  husbandry. 

A  few  days  since,  I  received  your  letter  by  Mr.  Curtis  ; 
previous  to  which,  I  had  supplied  your  son  with  clothing, 
so  as  to  come  to  my  house  from  the  Castle  ;  and  agreeably 
to  your  desire,  shall  continue  to  supply  him  with  what  is 
necessary.     I  am  your  loving  brother, 

EBENEZER  DAVIS. 

Rev.  E.  BvRRouGHS. 


192  MEMOIRS  OF 

Charlton,  25th  October,  178r8. 

HOSORED  AKD  DEAR  SIR, 

You  will  see  by  the  date  of  this  letter,  that  I  am  at  liber- 
ty from  the  trying  scenes  of  tedious  confinement,  which  I 
ave  endured  for  such  a  length  of  time.  The  various  oc- 
currences of  an  unhappy  course  of  misfortunes  has  left  no 
very  favorable  impression  upon  the  minds  of  the  public 
concerning  me.  I  know  I  have  suffered  greatly  in  your 
esteem  in  consequence  of  this  likewise,  which  has  added 
no  small  degree  of  poignancy  to  my  sufferings.  I  hope 
to  justify  myself  to  you  at  least,  by  my  future  conduct.  To 
a  censorious  world  I  have  no  idea  of  making  the  attempt, 
with  an  expectation  of  success. 

I  have  been  in  this  place  about  one  month,  paying  some 
attention  to  manual  labor.  I  could  wish  for  every  degree 
of  counsel  respecting  my  pursuits  at  this  critical  juncture, 
that  a  parent  can  bestow.  I  remain  with  sentiments  of  af- 
fection and  dutv,  yours,  &c. 

STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

Rev.  Eden  Burroughs. 

Sometime  in  the  month  of  November,  I  engaged  to 
teach  a  school  for  one  month  in  the  town  of  Charlton, 
llhe  inhabitants  being  fearful  of  employing  me  for  any 
longer  term,  until  they  should  find,  by  experience,  wheth- 
er I  would  conduct  a  school  with  regularity  and  proprie- 
ty. I  began  this  school  with  fifteen  scholars  ;  at  the  ex- 
piration of  the  month  I  had  forty-five  ;  I  was  then  engag- 
ed for  two  months,  which  took  all  the  public  money  which 
had  been  raised  for  the  purpose  of  schooling.  My  wages 
for  these  two  months  were  raised ;  and  I  found,  to  my  no 
small  comfort,  that  my  conduct  had  given  universal  satis- 
faction. When  the  two  months  were  expired,  my  school 
consisted  of  eighty-four  members.  A  number  of  young 
men  from  various  parts  of  the  country  had  resorted  to  my 
school,  in  order  to  obtain  the  higher  branches  of  educa- 
tion. 

When  the  time  of  the  last  engagement  had  expired,  the 
people  composing  this  district  assembled,  and  raised  mo- 
ney for  the  continuation  of  this  school  one  year  longer  ; 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  193 

fhis  was  a  thing  entirely  unknoTm  before  in  that  town. 
The  season  for  schooling,  heretofoi'e  in  this  town,  was 
three  months,  in  the  winter,  and  the  same  length  of  time, 
in  the  summer.  The  summer  school  ^^'as  taught  by  a 
woman,  which  school  consisted  of  small  children. 

I  now  found  myself  settled  in  business,  and  rising  fast 
in  the  esteem  of  those  with  whom  I  was  connected  ;  yet, 
under  all  these  circumstances,  I  was  by  no  means  at  ease. 
My  mind  was  perpetually  worried  with  fear,  that  some  of 
the  ten  thcnisand  of  the  unfortunate  occurrences,  which 
had  heretofore  befallen  me,  might  again  destroy  my  pres- 
ent pleasing  prospects. 

My  former  sufferings  had  left  such  an  impression  of 
horror  on  my  mind,  that  I  couldnot  close  my  eyes  in  sleep, 
but  what  these  terrible  scenes  would  be  present  to  my 
view,  and  I  compelled  to  act  them  over  again.  For  years 
after  this,  nay,  to  the  present  moment,  sir,  I  often  start 
frorn  sleep,  reeking  with  sweat  under  the  intense  misery 
of  my  fancied  horror. 

I  will  here  give  you  a  copy  of  a  number  of  letters  pas-- 
sing  between  me  and  my  friends,  and  then  pass  on  to  more 
important  scenes. 

HayioveTj  January  &th^   1789. 
Dear  Child, 

It  is  truly  a  matter  of  rejoicing  to  us,  that  the  time  of 
your  severe  trials,  by  a  painful  confinement,  in  a  state  of 
bondage,  is  now  expired  ;  and  that  you  have  now  return- 
ed, once  more  to  taste  those  sweets  of  liberty,  which  are 
always  dear,  next  to  life  itself.  But  much  greater  joy 
will  it  afford  us  to  see  the  evidence  of  your  heart's  being 
effectu:>lly  turned  from  those  ways  which  had  well  nigh 
proved  your  ruin,  in  relation  to  both  time  and  eternity  ; 
well  knowing  that  without  this,  your  release  from  a  state 
of  confinement,  will  finally  operate  to  no  other  purpose, 
but  bringing  you  into  a  state  of  far  more  awful  bondage 
than  you  have  ever  yet  expeiienced.  In  relation  to  any  ad- 
vice you  desire  from  your  parents,  respecting  your  future 
objects  and  pursuits,  we  know  not  how  to  be  any  more 
particular  than  we  have  already  expressed  to  you  in  our 


194  MEMOIRS  OF 

former  letters.  You  must  be  sensible,  and  every  feeling 
of  nature  itself  will  teach  you,  that  it  must  needs  be  high- 
ly acceptable  to  us  to  have  you  return  home,  and  live  with 
us,  only  provided  you  bring  with  you  a  ciiild-like  temper, 
and  act  out  a  spirit  of  genuine  repentance,  for  your  former' 
conduct  and  ways.  To  invite  your  return  to  us  on  any  other 
terms,  we  cannot,  with  any  real  sincerity  of  heart.  And 
if  it  shall  be  agreeable  to  your  inclination  to  return  to  us 
on  the  conditions  here  mentioned,  your  object  in  life  must 
be  pursuing  the  labors  of  the  field.  I  have  neither  capa- 
city nor  inclination  to  introduce  you,  under  present  cir- 
cumstances, into  the  business  of  any  other  calling  in  life. 
And  in  reference  to  such  an  object,  you  must  necessarily 
consult  your  own  talents  and  inclination  ;  for  any  person, 
of  your  age  and  experience,  can  better  judge  for  himself 
about  the  calling  in  life  for  which  he  is  best  furnished, 
than  another  can  judge  for  him  ;  and  your  own  conduct, 
in  relation  to  such  an  object,  must  be  governed  by  your 
own  judgment.  We  earnestly  pray  for  your  best  comfort, 
in  relation  to  time  and  eternity  ;  and  rest  your  affectionate 
parents,  E.  and  A.  BURROUGHS. 

Stephen  Burroughs. 


Charlton,  February  2oth,   1789. 
Honored  and  dear  sir, 

Yours  of  the  6th  of  January  was  received  about  a  week 
since.  My  acknowledgments  for  your  favor  I  have  paid 
by  the  earliest  opportunity. 

In  the  letter  I  wrote  you  last  fall,  you  will  recollect  an 
iniimdtion  of  my  wishing  for  your  advice  upon  my  future 
pursuits  in  life.  Not  receiving  any  answer  to  that  letter,  I 
engaged  in  the  school  for  a  year,  and  cannot  now  leave  it ; 
my  promise  being  given  to  keep  it  that  term  of  time. 

In  this  undertaking,  I  consulted  my  uncle  Ebenezer 
DAvis,  who  was  full  in  the  opinion,  that  I  ought  to  enter 
into  the  business,  which  then  offered,  on  account  of  the 
uncertainty  of  having  another  opportunity  of  equal  advan- 
tage. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  195 

Your  welfare  and  happiness  lie  near  my  heart,  and  should 
be  exceeding  glad  to  make  you  a  visit,  but  at  present  such 
an  object  is  out  of  my  power. 

I  remain  in  the  bands  of  filial  affection,  your  dutiful  son, 
STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

Rev.  E.  Burroughs. 

Boston^  December  22t/,  1788. 
Dear  Sir, 

I  received  your  letter,  and  gave  it  proper  attention.  I 
am  glad  you  have,  hitherto,  met  with  so  good  success. 
You  are  sensible  "  you  must  creep  '  again'  before  you  can 
go."  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power,  from  good  grounds,  to 
encourage  you  with  respect  to  business  this  way  ;  but  I 
have  no  disposition  to  deceive  you.  You  will  meet  with 
better  encouragemeot  in  the  country  than  in  town.  I  ad- 
vise you  to  go  to  your  father,  as  soon  as  you  are  out  of  busi- 
ness. He  is  able  to  help  you,  and  I  pray  he  may  be  wil- 
ling. I  rejoice  to  hear  you  conduct  well ;  and,  by  all  that 
is  endearing  in  this,  and  in  the  future  world,  I  entreat  you 
to  maintain  your  good  resolutions.  In  the  utmost  haste,  I 
am  your  sincere  friend  and  humble  servant, 

CALEB  BINGHAM. 

Mr.  S.  Burroughs. 

Matters  continued  in  this  train,  without  any  material  oc- 
currence. I  lived  in  the  house  of  one  Williams,  a  very 
considerable  man  in  that  part  of  the  town  where  I  taught 
the  school.  He  was  a  man  of  a  feeling  heart,  was  ready  to 
assist  the  needy,  and  administer  comfort  to  the  wretched. 
I  was  treated  in  this  house,  by  the  good  old  people,  more 
like  a  child  than  a  stranger.  A^l  the  tenderness  and  care 
of  a  parent  toward  a  child  ever  marked  their  conduct  to- 
wards me.  Sometime  in  the  summer,  D.  Bacon  received 
a  letter  from  my  father,  the  contents  of  which  was  to  our 
satisfaction. 

1  had  settled  in  my  mind,  to  make  my  father  a  visit  in 
the  course  of  this  summery  therefore,  I  hired  a  horse  of 
one  Curtis,  formerly  a  clergyman,  for  this  journey,  and 
made  my  visit  in  the  month  of  July,  after  an  absence  of 


196  lyiEMOIRS  OF 

nearly  fouv  years.  To  revisit  again  the  scenes  of  early 
yoiKh, 

"  Childhood's  lov'd  group,  behold  in  every  scene, 
"^The  tang-led  wood-walk  and  the  tufted  green, 

gave  a  pleasing  sensation,  tender  and  soothing.  Not  long 
after  I  had  been  at  my  father's,  my  horse,  playing  in  the 
pasture,  fell  and  broke  his  leg.  This  was  a  calamity  which 
I  felt  in  a  very  sensible  manner.  I  had  grown  so  timid, 
that  any  object  of  misfortune  was  viewed  in  its  most  terri- 
ble form.  I  started  at  every  danger,  and  grew  pale  with 
apprehension.  I  have,  since,  wondered  at  my  feeling  this 
misfortune  so  sensibly.  In  order  to  ease  my  mind,  my 
father  procured  me  another  horse,  and  not  only  wrote  him- 
self, but  added  the  testimonial  of  one  of  his  neighbor's,  to 
his  account. 

I  returned  to  Charlton,  and  the  September  following, 
was  married  to  the  daughter  of  my  untie,  Ebenezer  Davis.* 

This  circumstance  opened  a  new  field  of  contemplation. 
To  view  myself  in  the  relation  of  a  husband  and  parent ; 
to  feel  the  attachment  which  such  a  relation  constituted  ; 
you,  sir,  who  stand  in  those  relations  yourself,  can  more 
easily  judge  of  my  feelings  than  [  can  describe  them. 
When  I  became  the  head  of  a  family,  perfectly  calculated 
to  render  the  domestic  life  happy  ;  and  saw  myself  estab- 
lished in  such  business  as  would  supply  their  necessi- 
ties, 1  was  satisfied  ;',  the  height  of  my  ambition  was  grat- 
ified ;  I  enjoyed  a  flow  of  uninterrupted  felicity,  for  days 
and  for  months.  The  enjoyment  of  my  fire-side  was 
now  a  source  of  pleasure  which  I,  before,  had  never  a  dis- 
tant idea  was  the  portion  of  mortals.  It  was  indeed  too 
great  to  be  of  a  lasting  duration.  I  received  the  warm  con- 
i^ratulations  of  my  friends  on  my  prosperity.  Every  event 
took  place  to  please.  All  things  swam  gently  down  the 
tide  of  time,  and  lulled  my  feelings  to  repose  in  the  lap  of 
security. 

*  This  is  a  very  respectable  g-entleman,  a  man  of  larg-e  property, 
and  for  many  years  represented  the  town  in  tlie  leg-isluture  of  Mas- 
sachusetts. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  197 

I  have  made  a  transition  in  my  narrative,  over  about  a 
year  of  the  time  after  my  marriage,  Avithout  entering  into 
particulars ;  having  drawn  out  the  narration  to  such  a 
len.glh,  ah-eady,  as  to  fatigue  my  own  patience  ;  and  I  be- 
lieve, sir,  that  were  it  not  for  your  tenderness  to  my  feel- 
ings, you  would  long  ere  this  time  have  told  me,  "  Bur- 
roughs, your  stoiy  being  both  lengthy  and  gloomy,  it  is 
time  to  desist."  Gloom  is  the  chief  I  have  to  entertain 
you  with  in  the  after  relation  ;  therefore,  the  most  distant 
hint,  that  the  story  is  too  melancholy  to  give  entertain- 
ment, I  wiffBiscontinue. 

1  will  here  give  you  a  few  extracts  from  those  letters  of 
congratulation  which  I  received  in  these  days. 

Haiir^ver^  February  Slsf,  1790. 
Dear  Child, 

I  have  only  the  privilege  to  seize  a  few  hasty  moments, 
^o  inform^  you  of  our  safe  arrival,  on  the  fifth  day,  from  the 
time  of  our  taking  leave  of  you,  and  our  friends  at  Ch.ii'l- 
ton.  It  is  imix)ssible  for  the  want  of  time,  to  be  particu- 
lar in  any  matter — -would  be  glad  to  express  our  senti- 
ments upon.  That  we  are  greatly  comforted  with  the 
prospect  ot  your  being  useful  in  life,  w'ould  be  superflu- 
ous to  say.  You  well  know  that  nothing  can  be  a  source 
of  greater  comfort  to  us,  that  pertains  to  the  life  that  now 
is.  We  remember  the  kindness  of  your  customers  to 
you  with  sensible  emotions  of  gratitude  ;  and  desire  that 
our  love  may  be  presented  to  them,  as  opportunity  may 
offer.  Tell  Mr.  Williams  that  his  kindness,  ajid  that  of 
his  family,  has  made  a  deep  impression  upon  us.  Inform 
deacon  Bacon,  that  my  cordial  salutations  to  him  accom- 
pany this  letter,  as  also  to  Elder  Green.  I  have  it  in  view 
to  write  to  the  deacon,  as  soon  as  opportunity  will  permit. 
At  present  the  want  of  time  forces  m.e  to  a  close  ;  and 
wdth  fervent  prayers,  that  you  and  your  companion  may 
be  taught  of  God,  to  walk  as  heirs  of  the  grace  of  li'fe,  aiid 
for  the  highest  comfort  of  you  both,  in  relation  to  time 
and  eteniity  :  we  remain  your  affectionate  parents, 

E.  and  A.  BURROUGHS. 
Stephen  Burroughs. 
R  2 


]98  MEMOIRS  OF 

Hanover,  March  20th,  1790. 
Dear  Child^ 

It  is  needless  to  remind  you,  that  whilst  we  behol^  a 
prospect  of  your  being  useful  in  life,  in  your  present  call- 
ing, we  partake  of  that  satisfaction,  in  the  prospect,  which 
proved  in  its  operation,  like  a  most  reviving  and  comfort- 
ing cordial.  As  soon  as  you  come  to  know  the  heart  of  a 
parent,  you  will  understand  in  a  different  point  of  view 
from  what  you  can  now,  how  the  welfare  of  a  child,  is  an 
object  that  is  dear  and  precious,  to  such  a  degree,  that  in 
comparison  to  this,  every  other  earthly  treasure  is  of  in- 
significant and  trifling  importance.  Amidst  your  present 
objects  and  pursuits  that  relate  to  the  concerns  and  com- 
fort of  the  present  life  ;  it  would  vmspeakably  add  to  our 
joy,  to  see  the  evidence  that  each  of  your  hearts  are  re- 
conciled to  the  character  of  that  God  who  is  the  giver  of 
happiness  and  the  object  of  lore  to  every  soul,  who  is 
wade  wise  to  salvation.  Whilst  you  are  looking  into  the 
nature  of  religion,  we  wonder  not,  that  you  are  oftentimes 
tempted  to  scruple,  whether  there  is  any  thing  in  religion, 
whilst  you  form  an  estimate  of  it  by  the  lives  of  the  gene- 
rality of  its  professors.  Whilst  you  discern  that  iniquity 
in  its  various  shapes  abounds  amongst  thera,  take  heed 
that  it  does  not  proved  a  stone  of  stumbling  and  a  rock  of 
offence  to  you.  If  it  should,  it  ib  a  certain  evidence  that 
you  have  had  I'ecourse  to  a  false  rule,  to  form  your  esti- 
mate of  religion  by.  If  the  things  which  you  behold  and 
hear,  in  the  conduct  and  conversation  of  professors,  op- 
crate  in  this  manner,  to  worry  and  perplex  your  minds, 
and  you  are  ready  to  enquire,  "  Is  there  any  thing  in  re- 
ligion ?  Can  there  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Nazareth  ?'* 
I  would  only  reply,  in  the  words  of  Philip  to  Nathaniel, 
*'  Come  and  see  ;'*  make  the  trial  and  then  judge  for  your- 
selves. By  making  the  trial,  understand  me  to  mean, 
that  you  look  huo  the  spirit  of  that  temper  which  the  word 
holds  up  to  view,  and  let  your  hearts  be  fully  reconciled  to 
such  a  spirit,  and  governed  by  such  a  temper,  and  I  well 
know  you  will  want  no  other  evidence  to  convince  you, 
that  in  this  wisdom  there  is  such  a  treasure,  that  all  the 
ihinjis  you  can  desire  are  not  to  be  compared  to  it.    That 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.      .  199 

you  may  both  enjoy  the  happiness  of  the  social  life,  in  the 
mutual  €xercise  of  such  a  temper  towards  each  otlier,  is 
a  prayer  that  is  pregnant  with  the  most  genuine  love  that 
our  hearts  are  capable  of  experiencing  towards  you.  We 
remain  your  affectionate  parents, 

E.  and  A.  BURROUGHS. 

S.  Burroughs. 

Boston^  jYoveriiber  20th^  1789. 
Dear  sir^ 

I  thank  you  for  another  letter.  I  am  happy  to  hear 
you  are  so  well  married.  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  you 
have  thrown  away  ambition.  I  am  glad,  likewise,  that 
you  retain  it  in  so  great  a  degree  ;  for  there  are  two  sorts. 
You  are  ambitious  of  rising  into  fame  upon  the  basis  of 
virtue.  I  charge  you,  fling  not  away  that  ambition.  You 
may  not  rise,  however,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world;  but  you 
will  rise  in  yourself.  For  what  more  exalted  situation  can 
any  mortal  wish  to  arrive  at,  than  to  be  able  to  adopt  the 
words  ot  the  apostle,  "  I  have  maintained  a  conscience 
void  of  offenceboth  towards  God  and  towards  man,"  or  to 
that  effect.  This,  you  know,  is  what  you  and  I  must  aim 
at,  or  we  never  can  be  happy  ;  and  with  this,  we  shall  be 
happy,  however  the  world  may  think  of  us. 

People  here  are  not  yet  disposed  to  believe  you  are  re- 
formed in  reality.  1  will  believe  it ;  and  you  must,  for 
once,  disappoint  the  world.  I-feel  greatly  interested  in 
your  welfare.  I  seem  to  anticipate  the  joy  of  your  parents 
at  your  reformation. 

It  so  happens  that  I  am  always  in  a  hurry  when  I  receive 
your  letters,  or  I  should  be  more  particular. 

We  have  lost  one  of  our  children  since  I  wrote  you.  I 
am  afraid  the  bearer  is  gone,  for  I  did  not  receive  your  let- 
ter in  season. 

My  compliments  await  your  lady.  I  should  be  glad  to 
see  you  both.  The  next  time  I  go  to  Connecticut,  I  shall 
visit  vou.  I  am,  dear  sir,  your  faithful  friend  and  hum^ 
ble  servant,  CALEB  BINGHAM.* 

Mr.  S.  Burroughs. 

*  This  letter,  and  a  preceding  one  from  the  same,  were  publish- 
ed wittkcut  the  ^Titer's  knowledge  or  consetit.    The  fact  was  this. 


200  MEMOIRS  OF 

Stratjield,   February   2d,  1790. 
Sir, 

I  have  received  yours,  and  thank  you  for  the  respect 
you  express,  which  also  gives  me  great  satisfaction  for 
your  acknowledgment  to  me,  that  I  have  been  instrumen- 
tal of  giving  you  relief  in  time  of  distress,  which  is  no 
more  than  a  duty  which  rational  beings  are  bound  to  do 
for  each  other,  exclusive  of  the  bonds  of  relation.  I  also 
rejoice  to  hear  that  your  behavior  is  agreeable,  and  that 
you  have  gotten  an  agreeable  companion,  and  that  you  are 
in  prosperity.  My  business  was  such  that  I  could  not 
have  an  opportunity  to  wait  on  your  father  ;  please  to  ex- 
cuse me  to  him,  as  I  understand  he  is  bound  to  your  town 
before  he  returns.  I  wish  to  be  remembered  to  your  con- 
sort, your  mother  and  your  uncle  Davis.  These  from 
'yoiH^aftectionate  cousin, 

STEPHEN  SUMMERS. 

Mr.  S.  Burroughs. 

Thus  you  see,  sir,  that  my  portion  of  happiness  was 
complete.  All  that  was  possible  for  man  to  enjoy,  I  now 
experienced  ;  I  was  raised  to  the  utmost  pinnacle  of  bliss. 
But  I  was  only  raised  to  be  thrown  from  my  exaltation, 
to  the  deepest  abyss  of  wretchedness  and  misery. 

The  writer  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Burroughs,  requesting  his 
opinion  relative  to  the  publication  of  his  memoirs  ;  intending,  as 
he  afterwards  said,  if  that  opinion  should  be  favorable,  to  ask  leave 
to  publish  these  two  letters,  and  four  or  five  others.  The  answer 
was  decidedly  against  publishmg  the  memoirs,  on  the  ground  that 
the  histories  of  rogues  were  frequently  narrated  in  such  an  unguard- 
ed maimer  as  to  defeat  any  good  that  might  be  expected  from  their 
publication,  the  object  bemg  to  shew,  with  how  di'eadful  a  certain- 
ty vice  and  folly  meet  their  reward.  Buttlie  letter  which  contain- 
ed this  advice,  as  was  the  case  with  some  others,  directed  to  the 
same  distinguished  character,  was  stopped  on  the  road,  broken  open 
and  never  ai'rived  till  the  book  was  thus  far  in  print.  The  work,  how- 
ever, on  appearance,  proved  much  less  exceptionable  than  was  an- 
ticipated ;  and  it  is  presumed,  if  the  reader  will  bear  in  mind  that 
the  writer  is  the  hero  of  his  own  story,  it  will  be  found  calculated 
to  serve  as  a  beacon  for  youth  to  avoid  the  like  coiu'se,  least  they 
meet  a  like  ftite — a  vagrant  and  ignominious  existence,  constantly 
goaded  by  remorse  and  the  dread  of  future  punishment 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  201 

It  appears  to  me  that  fortune,  to  shew  the  extent  of  her 
power,  had  curiously  interwoven  a  train  of  circumstances, 
of  all  others  the  most  delicate  ;  and  of  all  others,  the  most 
Calculated  to  make  me  vulnerable  by  her  shafts. 

From  the  Castle,  from  a  state  of  confinement  as  a  slave  ; 
from  a  state  where  I  had  suffered  a  course  of  unexampled 
cruelty  ;  to  fall  among  a  people,  of  all  others,  the  most 
agreeable,  humane  and  benevolent ;  to  find  among  them 
a  readiness  to  give  credit  to  all  my  virtues,  notwithstand- 
ing the  clamor  against  me  ;  to  make  use  of  my  abilities, 
where  they  found  them  useful ;  and  to  treat  me  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  general  family  of  mankind,  was  a  situation, 
which  rendered  me  most  feelingly  happy.  Here  I  found 
a  society  which  I  could  enjoy  upon  terms  of  that  easy  ac- 
cess, which  renders  It  so  grateful. 

Here  was  a  theatre  upon  which  I  had  exhibited  in  such 
a  manner,  as  to  raise  the  desponding  hopes  of  my  friends, 
to  a  state  of  the  most  sanguine  expectation,  relating  to 
the  part  which  I  should  perform  as  a  member  of  society. 
Here  I  had  contracted  such  a  tenderness  for  a  fond  wife 
and  our  helpless  offspring,  as  to  lose  the  desire  for  my 
own  prosperity,  in  my  anxiety  for  them.  My  own  person- 
al benefit  Mas  now  but  a  secondary  consideration,  and 
only  viewed  of  consequence,  as  it  contributed  to  render 
them  happy. 

Here  I  had  a  family  ;  here  were  friends  of  near  con- 
nexion ;  and  here  was  a  society,  among  vrhom  I  enjoyed 
the  social  pleasures,  in  their  highest  perfection  ;  conse- 
quently, I  felt  the  most  ardent  desire  to  render  myself 
agreeable,  and  endearing  to  all  these. 

At  the  moment,  when  I  had  obtained  the  highest  pitch 
of  my  ambition,  when  1  became  completely  happy  in  the 
enjoyment  of  all  my  heait's  desire  ;  to  be  hurled  from  tins 
summit  of  happiness,  and  buried  under  the  weight  of  one 
general  wide  extended  ruin  ;  to  see  myself  in  a  moment, 
stripped  of  every  enjoyment  my  heart  held  dear,  and  re- 
duced back  into  that  state  of  confinement  ffrom  which  I 
had  so  lately  been  liberated,  was  a  situation  in  which  all 
the  powers  of  mind  and  the  strength  of  nature,  operated 
and  combined  to  render  me  completely  miserable.    Alas  I 


202  MEMOIRS  OF 

thou  unhappy  companion  of  my  life,  how  changed  our 
prospects!  but  a  little  time  since,  when  all  nature  smiled 
on  our  endeavors,  to  promote  the  welfare  of  our  mutual 
concern,  a  rising  family  ;  even  our  hearts  were  exhilirat- 
ed,  our  minds  were  soothed,  and  our  souls  filled  with  de- 
light, v/ith  the  playful  smiles  and  opening  mind  of  a  ten- 
der infant!  but  alas!  those  scenes  are  fled — fled  "with 
the  years  beyond  the  flood  ;"  fled  alas  !  beyond  the  reach 
of  hope  !  No  more  shall  my  heart  be  made  glad  by  the 
fond  embrace.  No  more  shall  the  sun  rise  to  cheer  my 
fond  hopes,  my  rising  expectations.  But  midnight  and 
death  shall  howl  their  horrid  dirges  around  m.y  bed  !  mise- 
ry and  melancholy  shall  spread  their  sable  veil  over  every 
part  of  my  life,  and  after  my  exit  from  this  stage  of  trouble, 
furies  shall  shriek  a  doleful  requiem  to  my  departure. 

I  find,  sir,  that  1  am  wild  and  unconnected  in  my  rela- 
tion. The  gloomy  scene  crowded  upon  me  before  I  was 
ready  to  give  it  a  place  ;  and  I,  involuntarily,  find  my  pen 
continually  delineating  those  melancholy  circumstances. 
I  beg  pardon  for  my  irregularity,  and  will  recall  my  wan- 
derings.    I  am,  sir,  he. 


CHAP.  XXII. 

**  A  part  ho\v  small  of  the  terraqueous  globe 

**  Is  tenanted  by  man !  the  rest  a  waste, 

**  Rocks,  deserts,  frozen  seas,  and  burning  sands : 

"  Wild  haunts  of  monsters,  poisonous  stings,  and  death : 

"  Such  is  earth's  melancholy  map  !  But  far 

**  More  sad  !  'I'his  earth  is  a  true  map  of  man  : 

■*'  So  bounded  are  its  haughty  lord's  delights 

**  To  w  oe's  V.  ide  empire ;  where  deep  troxibles  toss ; 

"  Loud  sorrows  liowl,  envenom'd  passions  bite ; 

*'  Kavenous  calamities  our  vitals  seize, 

*'  And  threatcniuj^  fate  wide  opens  to  devour." 

JLn  prosecuting  the  design  of  this  letter,  I  must  confess 
that  1  am  at  a  loss  how  to  describe  tliose  events,  of  which 
I  >vish  to  give  you  a  just  idea.  I  know  I  shall  fall  infinite- 
ly short  of  my  own  v-ishes.     The  scene  Wvis  so  crowded 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  203 

with  incidents,  that  it  will  be  impossible  to  relate  them  in 
Buch  a  manner  as  to  keep  them  clear  and  distinct,  so  as  to 
render  them  entirely  intelligible.  Under  this  view,  I  have 
thought  it  the  better  way,  to  give  you  extracts  of  letters, 
relating  to  these  events,  interspersingjthem  with  some  ex- 
planatory remarks,  and  filling  up  any  deficiency  by  an  ad- 
ditional relation. 

To  understand  the  after  relation  in  as  clear  a  manner  as 
the  nature  of  the  thing  will  admit,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
give  you  the  characters  of  some  persons  who  were  active 
in  my  misfortune,  and  to  begin  with  the  chief  engine  of 
this  business,  viz.  Israel  Waters.  This  man  was  a  near 
neighbor  to  me  during  my  living  in  my  own  family.  When 
W^aters  first  commenced  his  career  in  life,  he  was  ex- 
tremely poor,  illiterate,  ill  favored,  and  of  a  sour,  morose 
temper  ;  hence  he  remained,  for  a  long  time,  unknowing 
and  unknown.  A  number  of  fortunate  circumstances  hap- 
pening in  the  course  of  his  business,  he  attained  a  hand- 
some property.  When  he  found  himself  to  be  a  man  of 
property,  he  grew  unaccountably  presuming  and  haughty. 
He  had,  heretofore,  remained  among  mankind  without  at- 
tention or  notice ;  but,  now  manifested  an  ardent  ambition 
to  start  into  consequence  in  the  world. 

His  first  effort  was  to  rise  in  the  military  line.  He  stood 
for  the  command  of  the  company  of  which  he  was  a  mem- 
ber, not  sparing  of  his  purse  on  the  occasion  ;  but  was  de- 
feated in  his  pursuit.  He  then  stood  for  the  lieutenancy, 
and  after  a  length  of  time,  obtained  his  object. 

The  captainship  becoming  vacant  a  number  of  times,  he 
endeavored,  by  the  dint  of  electioneering,  to  obtain  that 
office  ;  his  exertions  were  ineftectual,  and  he  threw  up  his 
commission  in  a  pet,  and  joined  a  company  of  horse. 

Towards  this  company  he  truly  acted  a  benevolent  part, 
had  his  motives  been  a  regard  to  the  real  prosperity  of  the 
company  ;  but  his  after  conduct  made  it  evident,  that  elec- 
tioneering was  his  object,  in  assisting  various  members  of 
the  company  with  those  articles  which  their  finances  did 
not  allow  them  to  procure,  without  inconveniency.  Not- 
withstanding every  exertion  which  he  made,  tlie  choice  of 


204  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  company  fell  upon  a  deserving  man,  and  of  course,  he 
occupied  the  second  place  in  this  company. 

Whilst  he  held  the  office  of  lieutenant  in  the  company 
of  light  horse,  the  rebellion  broke  out  which,  you  will  re- 
collect, was  termed  Shay*s  rebellion.  This  produced  ani- 
mosity among  neighbors,  and  almost  every  man  became  a 
partizan.  The  militia  were  called  upon,  and  Waters,  with 
the  rest  of  his  company,  went  into  service,  against  the  in- 
surgents. Here  he  had  an  opportunity  of  hearing  much 
said  in  favor  of  government,  and  likewise  against  those 
who  should  oppose  her  measures. 

Having  been  dis^ippointed  in  all  his  efforts  to  become  a 
man  of  that  consequence  in  society  to  which  hi'5  restless 
ambition  had  led  him,  he  expected  that  he  had  now  discov- 
ered the  only  sure  road  to  preferment,  viz.  by  making  him- 
self so  sti'ong  a  stickler  for  government,  that  he  would  be 
taken  notice  of,  and  promoted.  Under  this  view  of  matters, 
not  having  ability  to  distinguish  between  a  real  and  pre- 
tended assistc'ince  to  the  laws  of  the  country,  he  became  the 
pimp,  rather  than  the  friend  of  government. 

My  rising  so  suddenly  and  rapidly  into  esteem,  had  given 
this  man  great  umbrage.  "  What,"  said  he,  "  shall  this 
mushroom  of  a  night  be  rewarded  and  caressed  by  man- 
kind, whilst  I  have  been  laboring  years  in  the  pursuit,  and 
spent  great  part  of  my  time  and  interest  in  this  business, 
and  yet  be  neglected  ?'*  The  comparison  was  too  mortify- 
ing ;  and  of  course,  he  sought  to  remove  that  object  from 
sight  which  gave  him  so  much  pain  to  view.  He  was  but 
too  successful  in  his  undertaking. 

He  had  made  his  calculation  upon  answering  two  pur- 
poses in  rendering  me  obnoxious  to  the  laws,  viz.  gi-atify- 
ing  his  own  private  spleen,  and  gaining  the  commendations 
of  men  in  office,  who,  he  expected,  would  be  gratified  at 
my  downfal ;  hence,  after  my  calamity,  he  made  his  boasts, 
that  he  esteemed  the  honor  he  had  done  himself  in  that 
business  so  highly,  that  he  would  not  part  with  it  for  one 
hundred  pounds. 

Another  character  in  this  business,  was  one  Elice  Put- 
ney, an  old  girl,  who  had  not  borne  the  character  of  a  Lu- 
crctia ;  and  of  consequence,  finding  herself  at  a  low  ebb, 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  205^ 

calculated  to  make  some  bold  efforts  to  do  away  a  jealousy 
there  was  remaining  upon  the  minds  of  many,  that  she 
was  by  no  means  exposed  to  suffer  on  account  of  her  vir- 
tue. No  way  appeared  so  eligible  to  this  antiquated  he- 
roine, as  to  raise  a  report,  of  her  having  withstood  some 
violent  attacks  upon  the  casiie  of  her  honesty.  This  bein^^ 
the  case,  you  will  hear  in  the  after  relation,  how  she  suc- 
ceeded in  her  undertaking. 

The  following  character,  who  maintains  a  place  most  in 
dignity  in  this  narrative,  is  Daniel  Bacon.  This  man  is 
as  punctual  in  telling  his  great  religious  exercises  as  any 
man  you  will  generally  meet  with.  Take  his  own  acvxjunt 
for  your  evidence,  and  you  will  believe  bim  to  be  the  best 
man  living  ;  but  when  you  examine  him  critically,  by  his 
works,  you  will  find  it  necessary  to  place  much  ^o  the  ac- 
count of  human  frailties,  if  you  continue  to  believe  in  his 
goodness.  He  is  a  man  possessing  a  very  tenacious  m,e- 
mory,  relating  to  matters  which  make  in  his  own  favor, 
and  the  contrary,  he  has  a  happy  faculty  in  forgetting. 

His  wife  comes  fonvard,  in  the  next  place,  and  clearly 
tlemonstrates  that  she  is  bone  of  his  bone,  and  flesh  of  his 
flesh.  They  are  both  endowed  with  small  mental  abili- 
ties, timid  and  fearful  of  meeting  with  danger  on  eveiy 
occasion. 

About  six  months  previous  tx)my  marriage,  two  daugh- 
ters of  D.  Bacon  attended  my  school.  As  I  taught  a 
school  in  the  evening,  separate  from  the  common  school, 
many  scholars  who  attended  in  the  day,  likewise  attendeci 
in  the  evening.  After  I  had  dismissed  the  school  lor 
the  day,  I  generally  made  a  practice  of  tarrying  at  the 
school-house,  until  the  time  for  opening  that  in  the  even- 
ing, in  order  to  make  some  necessaiy  airangements. 

More  or  less  of  the  scholars,  who  lived  some  distance 
from  the  school,  likewise  tarried.  At  a  certain  time,  the 
elderofD.  Bacon's  daughters  remained  with  me  in  the 
school-house,  during  tl>e  intermission  betv.een  the  Hv. o 
schools,  A  number  of  circumstances  happening  to  throw 
a  certain  enjoyment  full  in  my  view,  the  tempUxtion  was 
too  powerful.  I  fell  before  it.  The  fatal  moment  wa-. 
past.  It  could  not  be  recalled,  Aft^r  I  had  reiire4  from 
s  *~ 


06  MEMOIRS  OF 

school,  the  object  had  its  full  operation  upon  my  mind. 
This  v/as  a  moment  of  calmness.  This  was  a  moment  in 
%vhich  the  examination  of  my  conduct  gave  me  the  keen- 
est pain. 

1  considered  that  my  situation  had  been  the  means  of 
gaining  easy  access  to  her  virtue.  That  she  had  been 
taught  to  put  the  most  implicit  confidence  in  my  instruc- 
titn.  That  the  example,  in  me,  would  have  a  fatal  influ- 
ence on  her  principles  of  virtue.  These  considerations 
gave  me  no  small  degree  of  uneasiness.  I  lamented  my 
untimely  folly,  but  too  late,  I  lamented  it.  I  took  the  ear- 
liest opportunity  of  repairing  the  injury,  so  far  as  was  now 
in  my  power. 

Not  long  after  this,  the  same  opportunity  offering  again 
at  tlic  school-house,  I  entered  into  conversation  with  the 
girl  on  the  subject.  I  endeavored  to  give  her  a  statement 
of  my  own  views  on  tiie  subject.  I  expostulated  with 
her  in  the  warmest  terms  upon  the  impropriety  of  ever 
swerving  from  the  path  of  virtue.  I  intimated  to  her, 
that  from  the  principles  of  integrity,  as  vfeW  as  tenderness 
to  her  own  welfare,  I  sliould  keep  this  business  a  secret 
from  every  person  living.  It  is  true,  I  gave  her  no  charge 
to  keep  this  unhappy  business  buried  in  her  own  breast. 
I  presumed,  that  the  laws  of  delicacy  and  self-preserva- 
tion would  have  been  sufficient  for  such  a  purpose,  but  in 
this  I  was  deceived. 

She  divulged  the  secret  among  some  of  her  compan- 
ions. By  little  and  little,  it  gained  ground,  until  it  came 
lo  the  knowledge  of  Israel  Waters.  He  embraced  the 
cpportunity  to  make  such  arrangements  with  the  parents 
oi  iliese  girls  as  to  carry  his  diabolical  plan  into  execution. 
'Jle  pretended  great  concern  for  the  welfare  of  the  girl's 
character,  and  said  he  wished  to  save  her  free  from  impu- 
tation of  blame. 

Matters  being  under  this  situation,  one  morning  about 
the  (lawn  of  day,  I  was  awaked  and  made  prisoner  by  a 
sheriff,  Waters  and  a  number  of  others.  I  was  immedi- 
ately cnrried  to  the  house  of  Waters,  and  kept  closely 
coniined,  v.vaW  the  evening  succeeding,  when  there  arriv- 
ed two  lawv;  V?;,  one  to  act  as  justice  of  the  peace,  and  the 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  20? 

other  to  advocate  the  cause  in  behalf  of  the  state.  A  cii-- 
ciimstance  somewhat  curious,  that  these  g«ntlemen  should 
come  twenty  miles  to  make  inquiry  into  a  matter,  v.hen 
there  were  four  justices  living  within  the  distance  of  four 
miles,  V, ho  were  equally  competent  to  make  the  inquiry. 

I  was  brought  before  the  justice  and  heard  the  com- 
plaint read,  which  contained  allegations  against  me,  a- 
Tiiounting  to  a  rape.  To  this,  you  may  depend^  I  plead  not 
guilty.  When  the  girl  was  examined,  she  would  not  stand 
the  test,  but  declared  that  I  only  had  made  the  attempt  to 
ravish  her  without  success.  To  my  astonishment,  I  found 
two  others  were  called  upon  to  give  evidence,  viz.  Elice  Put- 
ney, and  a  younger  sister  of  the  first  mentioned  girl.  They 
all  testified  to  the  same  import,  that  I  had  laid  violent 
hands  upon  them,  in  various  places,  and  exerted  all  my 
abilities  to  proceed  with  them  to  acts  of  iniquity  ;  but  they 
had  made  such  noble  resi^'.-iuce,  as  to  overcome  my  great- 
est exertions,  and  fairly  out  matched  me  in  strengtii. 

After  they  had  finished  their  evidence  upon  these  mat- 
ters of  oifencc;  the  justice  made  out  my  mittimus  to  j.il, 
for  trial  at  the  next  supreme  court  to  be  holden  six  months 
afterwards,  for  an  assault  with  an  intent  to  ravish.  Not- 
withstanding, the  court  of  quarter  sessions  had  concur- 
rent jurisdiction  with  the  supreme  court,  in  causes  of  this 
kind,  and  sat,  if  I  mistake  not,  four  months  sobner.  The 
girls,  D.  Bacon  and  wife,  were  bound  over  to  give  testi- 
mony at  the  sitting  of  the  court,  £cc. 

To  undertake  a  description  of  my  feelings  under  this 
situation,  would  be  as  fruitless  as  to  attempt  to  give  a  blind 
man  an  idea  of  colours.  I  hate  to  dwell  upon  the  scene, 
long  enough  to  give  you  the  general  occurrences  which 
took  place.  It  makes  my  head  run  round  in  a  maze,  to 
dwell  long  enough  upon  these  matters,  to  bring  them 
^S^^^^i^to  view,  so  that  I  may  state  them  in  order.  I  re- 
joice^lpit  I  may  turn  you  'to  the  perusal  of  some  letters 
which  will  lead  you  into  the  knowledge  of  facts  without 
my  writing  them  over  again. 

Mr   DEARy 

After  tJie  scene  of  last  night,  you  will  not  wonder  at  my 
ieeiing  all  the  horrors  of  nr^y  situation.     On  the    '^^yV  not 


^  8  MEMOIRS  OP 

a  word  said.  All  hushed  with  that  dismal  silence  whicii 
betokens  the  feelings  even  of  those  whose  occupation  is 
cruelty.  About  midnight  we  arrived  at  the  goal,  and  after 
some  difficulty,  the  Cerberus  of  this  place  of  human  woe 
v/as  aroused,  and  procuring  a  number  of  his  massy  keys, 
the  ponderous  dcrors  growled  on  their  hinges,  to  open  to 
my  view  and  anticipation  the  regionsof  horror  and  despair. 
The  doors  were  closed,  and  all  the  bolts  responded  to  the 
iron  force  of  their  massy  keys  ;  the  scene  around  ine  is 
beyond  description  ;  thiough  the  remainder  of  the-  night, 
my  mind  was  overborne  by  the  weight  of  what  had  taken 
phccjin  such  a  rapid  succession  for  twenty-four  hours  be- 
fore :  nature  gave  way,  and  I  sunk  into  forgetfulness.  I 
awoke  with  the  light,  but  not  to  stupidity.  'Ihe  mind  be- 
came vigorous  Jind  clear,  by  a  moments  relaxation,  all 
ihe  avenues  of  sensibility  were  open  ;  the  positive  and  re- 
lative horrors  of  my  situation  came  rolling  upon  me  like  a 
torrent  of  destruction,  threatening  instant  desolation.  All 
my  flatterinii-  prospects  in  life,  in  a  moment  blasted.  A 
wife  whom  I  adore,  an  infant  and  only  child,  lost  in  a  mo- 
ment, by  the  merciful  hand  of  justice  1  O  !  horrid  profa- 
nuiion  1  To  call  that  by  the  name  of  justice  which  nature 
recoils  at  with  disgust.  Is  this  the  lot  of  man  ?  To  have 
his  soul  filled  with  complete  happiness ;  to  be  possessed 
with  every  object  which  could  gratify  his  remotest  wish  ; 
in  order  to  be  thrown  from  the  enjoyment  of  all,  to  render 
his  misery  absolute  !  I  know  your  feelings  upon  these  try- 
ing events.  I  know  the  various  manoeuvres  which  will 
be  made  use  of,  in  order  to  pre|K)ssess  your  mind  against 
my  conduct,  and  of  course  in  favor  of  the  proceedings  of 
those  persons  who  have  combined  together  for  my  de- 
struction. In  order  to  counteract  their  designs,  I  could 
have  recourse  to  arguments,  entreaties  and  persuasions  ; 
but  all  these  I  despise.  If  I  possess  your  conficjeiice  to 
such  a  degree  as  that  you  will  be  able  to  resist  thie^lkrious 
efforts  made  use  of  against  me,  I  then  possess  every  thing 
in  you  that  I  wish  for,  and  short  of  that  there  is  nothing 
for  which  I  am  ambitious.  I  wish  to  see  you  even  in  this 
dreary  place  of  confinement.  I  know  you  must  be  shock- 
ed at  the  prospect  which  you  will  find  presented  to  your 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

view,  should  you  come  to  this  "  place  of  torment  1"  but 
notwithstanding,  I  cannot  say  but  what  I  wish  to  see  you, 
even  here  ;  that  is  all  the  remaining  comfort  which  now 
even  glimmers  before  my  eyes,  and  how  long  that  spark 
of  consolation  may  remain,  I  know  not.  If  I  should  be 
deprived  of  it  before  to-morrow's  dawn,  not  more  strange 
should  I  esteem  that  than  thousands  of  occurrences  through 
which  I  have  passed  since  I  began  my  melancholy  career 
in  life.  What  a  host  of  flattering  friends  and  humble  ser- 
vants had  I  tv/o  days  since,  but  now  where  are  they  ?  Not 

one  who  dares  to  shew  his  head.     The  town  cf  C n 

will  no  more  contend  in  what  part  of  it  I  shall  reside.  So 
well  do  I  know  the  baseness  of  the  human  heart,  that  for 
one  shilling,  I  would  part  with  all  my  chance  of  friends  in 
this  wide  world,  (yourself  excepted.)  And  yet,  whose 
prospects  of  unalterable  friends  were  stronger  than  mine  ? 
Am  I  altered  ?  Am  I  changed  ?  Am  not  I  the  same  in 
name  and  nature,  in  feeling  and  in  semiment  ?  But  my 
prospects  are  blasted,  and  my  friends  are  vanished.  Why 
do  I  write  thus  lengthy  ?  Because  it  looses  me  from  my 
situation  for  a  moment.  Vv'rite  to  me.  Say  any  thing  to 
dispel  the  gloom  for  a  mon^ent,  even  if  it  be  matters  not 
founded  in  fact.     I  remain  with,  tenderness  and  atrection, 

STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 
Air  Dear, 

I  was  mistaken  in  not  valuing  the  friendship  of  those 
who  made  professions  in  time  of  prosperity.  1  find  to  mv 
surprise,  there  are  some  real  friends,  and  even  those  who 
dare  profess  it  to  the  world:  Sfrange  !  those  who  dare 
assert  the  cause  of  innocence,  notwithstanding  the  power 
of  oppressors  !  Captain  I — r  was  here  this  day,  and  offered 
to  become  sponser  for  the  paym.ent  of  2  501.  on  condition  of 
niy  being  liberated  till  court.  Cannot  our  friends,  or  relr.- 
tions,  I  might  more  justly  say,  be  persu?.ded  to  give  hA\  for 
the  other  2501.  ?  I  shall  think  ifvery  surprising  if  strangers 
will  shew  more  kindness  tlian  the  nearest  relatives.  T  find 
that  the  opinion  of  the  world  is  much  more  favorable  thr^n 
I  expected.  Many  independent  minds  view  this  mailer 
as  they  ought,  according  to  the  evidence  which  has  been 
offered.     For  a  girl  to  pretend  that  violence  had  be: 


21©  IVIEMOIRS  OF 

fercd  her  six  months  before  she  makes  the  matter kno'sfli, 
cTcii  to  her  nearest  intimates,  and  seek  the  company  of  the 
person  who  had  offered  the  violence,  perpetually  and  con- 
tinually, until  just  before  the  discovery  is  to  take  place,  is 
to  me  a  line  of  conduct  hardly  credible,  and  to  the  candid 
■world  appears  ludicrous  to  the  last  degree.  Yet,  notwith- 
standing the  ridiculous  foundation  upon  which  this  matter 
rests,  my  enemies  exult  in  the  prospect  of  bringing  ruin 
upon  my  head,  by  supporting  the  charge  of  violence  against 

the  virtuous,  the  modest  and  amiable  L y  B n  ; 

who,  from  her  own  story,  (did  we  not  in  charity  disbelieve 
her)  would  make  herself  one  of  the  most  barefaced  w — s, 
who  disgrace  her  sex,  and  bring  a  blush  upon  Uie  cheek 
of  every  modest  woman.  Yet,  I  know  the  world  at  large 
can  believe  an  infamous  report,  (however  incredible  in  it« 
self,)  so  much  readier  than  a  good  one,  that  my  appre- 
hensions have  been  much  alarmed,  by  the  great  exertions 
which  are  now  making,  lest  such  an  invincible  prejudice 
should  be  raised  against  me,  as  greatly  to  mar  the  equity 
t'fihe  trial.  I  know  upon  that  one  circumstance,  rests 
the  wlaole  expectation  of  my  enemies  ;  should  they  not 
succeed  in  that,  they  must  fall  with  the  rapidity  of  Lucifer ; 
therefore,  no  puins  will  be  wanting  on  their  part,  to  effect 
i-iieir  purpose  in  such  a  w^ay  ;  if  I  obtain  my  liberation  by 
bail,  I  think  they  must  be  disappointed  in  their  warm  ex- 
pectations. Strange  that  man  should  be  so  blind  to  his 
own  happiness,  and  to  the  part  he  ought  toi act,  as  to  use 
liis  exertions  for  the  misery  of  his  fellow.  The  ills  of  life 
by  the  common  course  of  nature,  are  many,  and  hard  to  be 
bonie  ;  and  our  situation  requires  all  the  sympathy,  com- 
riii^scmtion,  and  compassion  of  each  other,  to  render  it  tol- 
erable ;  btit,  when  to  the  common  ills  of  life,  the  artificial 
cruelty  of  revengeful  mortals  is  added,  then  is  the  cup  of 
iiUcrncss  completely  filled  ;  then  shall  we  find  racks  and 
jbbcts,  pillories  rnd  whipping  posts.  The  inventors  of 
:(  J  veiy  engines  of  cruelty  will  boast  of  their  superior 
. ./,  declaiing  themselves  with  great  ostentation,  to  be 
:,c  happy  few,  who  have  ever  known  the  feelings  of  cora- 
\  <'s'-^n  towards  each  other,  exulting  at  the  extent  of  their 
;;o  superior  to  \h?X  of  ihe  Turks,  Rv.ssians  and 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  2il 

barbarians.  Mistaken  wretches  !  And  because  they  can 
find  some  more  cruel  than  themselves,  they  deem  this 
matter  a  sufficient  evidence  of  their  own  great  goodness  ; 
but  should  they  for  a  moment  make  the  comparison  be- 
tween their  own  conduct  and  the  real  standard  of  benevo- 
lence, viz.  the  conduct  of  Deity,  how  would  they  be  abash- 
ed and  shrink  with  astonishment  at  their  own  baseness. 
Where  do  we  find  prisons  and  tortures  prepared  by  him, 
for  offending  mortals  ?  Does  he  take  advr.ntage  of  every 
lapse  which  he  sees  in  us  to  v/reak  his  vengeance  ?  Should 
he  do  this,  how  few  would  have  the  leisure  to  pursue  his 
neighbor's  destruction  ?  Should  matters  turn  out  in  such 
^n  unfortunate  manner  as  to  render  it  difficult  to  obtain 
liberation  on  bail,  immediately,  I  v>'ish  you  to  come  to 
AV-  r  soon,  if  you  find  it  can  be  affected  without  diffi- 
culty ;  otherwise,  you  will  do  well  to  defer  your  journey 
for  the  present.     I  remain,  kc. 

STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 
Dear  Sir, 

Yours  of  the  20th  ult.  came  safe  to  hand.  I  read  it  witk 
pleasure,  because  any  thing  coming  from  you  gives  me 
pleasure;  but  more  particularly,  that  which  speaks' your 
mind,  and  partakes  of  the  nature  of  sentiment.  Vou  men- 
tion a  desire  to  see  me ;  I  do  not  think   I  can    come  to 

W' r  until  court ;  the  reasons  are  but  too  well  knov>  ii 

to  you  already,  and  these  reasons  appear  to  me  conclusive  ;. 
hovrever,  I  wish  to  act  with  prudence  and  deliberation  on 
the  matter,  and  shall,  therefore,  await  your  opinion  on  the 
subject.  The  prospect  of  bail  is  entirely  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, owing  to  the  influence  of ;  how- 
ever terrible  such  a  condition,  yet  you  must  bear  it ;  and  I 
wish  you  may  do  it  with  composure,  and  not  think  of  rid- 
ding yourself  of  confinement  by  any  illegalmeasures.  The 
fatal  consequences,  should  you  succeed,  will  be  but  too 
sensibly  felt  my  me.  The  country  you  must  leaA'e.  I  must 
then  remain  forsaken,  incumbered  with  a  helpless  infant, 
and  what  is  more,  uncertain  v/hat  to  hope  for,  or  what  hot 
to  fear.  Almost  any  situation,  to  me,  would  be  preferable 
to  that.  I  ti'emble  at  the  thought,  that  it  is  even  possible 
fe-r  such  an  event  to  take  place.     Is  your  love  towards  me 


212  MEMOIRS  OF 

sincere  ?  And  can  you  bear  to  leave  your  country,  to  leave 
me  and  your  babe,  without  a  friend  upou  whom  we  shall 
have  the  confidence  to  rest  for  protection  and  support  ?  I 
remain,  in  haste,  your  loving  wife, 

SALLY  BURROUGHS. 

Mr  Dear^ 

Yours  of  the  5th  instant  arrived  yesterday  ;  my  feelings 
were  variously  affected  by  its  contents.  Your  intimation, 
of  what  comes  from  me  gives  you  pleasure,  was  truly  an 
intimation  of  the  most  pleasing  kuid  to  me  ;  but,  what  was 
the  difference  of  my  feelings,  when  you  tell  me  you  shall 

not  come  to  W r  until  court.     Do  you  imagine  I 

can  wear  away  five  gloomy  months  without  one  drop  of 
comfort,  mixed  in  this  cup  of  bitterness  ?  Can  this  conduct 
be  consistent  with  the  duty  you  owe  to  me  ?  Can  it  be  con- 
sistent with  that  love  which  you  profess,  to  forsake  me  in 
this  time  of  difficulty  ?  This  is  the  time  for  trial,  this  is 
the  time  for  the  serious  proof  of  the  affections  of  our  friends. 
I  have  seen  your  father  twice  since  I  saw  you.  I  talked 
with  him  relating  to  his  intentions  concerning  you,  and 

whether  he  was  willing  you  should  come  to  \V r  on 

a  visit ;  he  did  not  give  me  a  decided  answer,  either  in  the 
negative  or  affirmative. 

He  appears  to  be  apprehensive,  that  so  soon  as  my  lib- 
eration tukes  place,  I  shall,  with  indignation,  quit  the  coun- 
try, and  entire'y  leave  you,  or  else  carry  you  to  regions  un- 
known to  him.  Did  he  know  the  feelings  of  my  heart  on 
that  suliject,  his  ideas  would  undergo  a  revolution,  and  he 
would  reason  with  more  candor. 

In  relation  to  my  affection  towards  you,  I  think  that  you 
must  be  perfectly  sensible,  that  it  is  stronger  than  the 
powers  of  misfortune.  You  ask  me  if  I  can  leave  you  and 
flee  my  country  ?  Would  you  ask  the  tender  mother  if  she  . 
will  leave  her  helpless  infant  ?  or  the  turtle  dove,  whether 
she  will  leave  her  male  ?  It  is  for  you,  my  Sally,  that  I 
live  ;  it  is  for  you  that  I  endure  the  ills  of  life.  Should  I 
leave  you,  what  then  would  become  of  my  Sally,  the  idol 
of  my  soul,  the  delight  of  my  eyes  ?  My  soul  shudders  at 
the  thought,  and  recoijs  with  horror  at  the  reflection  !  May 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  213 

Liic  coki  hand  of  death  sooner  close  these  eyes,  so  accus- 
tomed to  sorrow,  than  such  events  should  happen.  You 
can  hardly  conceive  of  my  feelings  in  this  situation  of 
wretchedness  ;  they  are  like  the  boisterous  ocean  in  time 
of  tempest;  confusion  and  distress,  anguish  and  despair, 
perpetaally  assail  me  ;  I  rave  Avith  madness,  and  grow  sul- 
len with  cUsappointment.  My  sleeping  moments  often 
flatter  me  you  are  presernt.  I  awake  to  disappointment, 
and  curse  my  dreams,  for  opening  all  my  wounds  afresh, 
and  causing  the  blood  of  aflliction  to  flow  in  streams  anew. 
The  clouds  of  darkness  which  now  hang  over  us  are  thick 
and  gloomy,  but  must  not  they  be  soon  driven  away  ?  Will 
not  that  God,  who  knows  the  secrets  of  the  heart,  appear 
for  injured  innocence  ?  By  the  united  advice  of  my  friends^, 

I  have  engaged  Mr.  S g,  of  .\ ,  rather  than  M k. 

Sunday  morning — I  have  just  opened  my  eyes  from  a 
pleasing  dream.  Methought  I  was  at  liberty  with  you, 
and  enjoying  all  the  sweets  of  social  life  ;  the  rapture  of 
this  scene  overpowered  my  sleep,  and  I  awoke  !  but  to 
what  did  I  awake  !  to  behold  myself  alone,  environed  by 
the  gloomy  walls  of  a  jail,  composed  of  huge  rocks  and 
massy  bars  of  iron,  without  the  hope  of  ever  seeing  you 
until  court :  I  say  wrong,  I  have  hopes  of  seeing  you  soon, 
and  must  not  be  disappointed.  You  desire  me  to  make 
myself  contented.  You  may  as  well  desire  the  drowning 
man  not  to  seize  on  every  substance  v/ithin  his  grasp. 

Dear  Sir, 

Your  favor  of  the  1 1th  I  received.  It  was  with  grati- 
tude I  received  it.  You  intimate  a  dissatisfaction  at  my 
declining  a  visit  to  you.  But  think  not,  sir,  that  it  is  for 
the  want  of  afl'ection  that  I  abstain  from  coming  to  see  you. 
The  disagreeable  necessity  I  may  hereafter  be  under,  of 
subsisting  upon  the  help  of  my  friends,  makes  me  fearful 
of  taking  measures  which  will  offend  them.  "Notwith- 
standing, since  you  so  earnestly  desire  it,  I  shall  try  every 
proper  measure  to  see  you. 

1  have  heard  that  you  have  made  attempts  to  break  jail. 
I  cannot  answer  for  the  truth  of  these  reports.  I  think  it 
the  better  wajr  to  He  quiet  until  couit,  however  disagreea- 


^U  MEMOIRS  OF 

ble  the  idea  may  appear,  and  not  run  any  risk  by  trying  to 
extricate  yourself  from  confinement  by  unlawful  measures. 
Should  you  succeed,  you  would  labor  under  very  great 
embarrassments,  on  account  of  leaving  the  country  ;  if 
you  have  any  regard  for  an  afflicted  wife,  or  an  infant  child, 
onec  the  delight  of  your  soul. 

It  is  impossible  to  conceive  the  anxiety  that  perpetual- 
ly fills  my  mind,  relating  to  these  unhappy  events.  Some- 
times I  am  ready  to  give  myself  over  for  lost,  thrown  out 
into  a  troublesome  world,  to  endure  alone  and  imsupport- 
ed,  the  hardships  and  distresses  incident  to  such  a  situa- 
tion. But  alas  I  how  can  I  harbor  such  a  thought  ?  You 
certainly  cannot  v.ish  to  deceive  me.  You  must  be  en- 
tirely sensible  of  my  affection  towards  you. 

I  hear  so  many  reports  and  observations  that  at  times, 
my  fears  almost  overcome  me  May  God  graciously 
support  me  under  those  trials  which  I  am  now  called  to 
pass  through.  I  remain,  with  the  warmest  affection, 
your  loving,  though  afflicted  and  sorrowful  wife, 

SALLY  BURROUGHS. 

December  28M. 
Mr  Dear^ 

In  answer  to  yours  ©f  the  2  1st,  I  have  to  communicate, 
that  a  degree  of  satisfaction  was  received  in  that  letter, 
which  is  entirely  inexpressible.  There  is  a  something  in 
receiving  testimonies  of  ctttachment  and  esteem,  when  we 
are  in  adversity,  which  is  exquisitely  grateful ;  on  the  oth- 
er hand,  to  experience  injury  and  abuse,  at  such  times,  is 
far  more  insupportable  than  when  we  are  in  common  pros- 
perity. 

Respecting  those  reports  of  my  attempting  to  break  jail, 
they  ai'e  as  unfounded  as  many  others  which  have  been  in 
circulation.  I  have  not  the  most  distant  idea,  under  pres- 
ent circumstances,  of  making  any  such  attempt. 

You  mention  your  anxiety,  on  account  of  the  reports  and 
observations  which  you  continually  hear  made.  To  fur- 
nish you  with  what  evidence  the  nature  of  the  thing  will 
admit,  I  shall  refer  you  to  that  line  of  conduct  which  you 
ha^se  been  acquainted  with  in  me,  from  the  knowledge  you 
ever  had  of  nay  person  and  principle. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  315 

You  entertain  a  fear  of  my  abandoning  you  after  my  lib- 
eration. This  appears  to  me  strange.  When  I  have 
once  found  a  friend,  I  do  not  easily  let  him  go,  even  in  a 
state  of  the  greatest  prosperity.  My  soul  was  formed  for 
friendship,  and  when  I  find  a  friend,  who  can  endure  the 
storm  of  adversity,  I  do  not  think  there  is,  in  the  nature 
of  things,  an  equivalent  to  be  received  in  exchange,  for 
such  a  friend.  When  you  consider,  that  in  addition  to  all 
these  considerations,  I  stand  in  the  relation  of  a  husband  to 
you,  and  of  a  parent  to  our  infant ;  can  there  remain  the 
most  distant  jealousy  in  your  mind,  that  I  shall  forfeit  all 
claim  to  every  principle  of  integrity  under  these  obliga- 
tions I  ! 

Surely,  my  dear,  if  you  take  all  these  circumstances 
which  I  have  mentioned,  into  your  serious  consideration, 
it  will  be  an  effectual  bar  against  the  effect  of  the  sugges- 
tions of  those  meddling  characters  who  wish  to  destroy 
your  peace  of  mind. 

That  you  may  enjoy  every  blessing,  which  the  kind 
hand  of  providence  bestows  on  mortals,  is  the  fervent  pray- 
er of  your  affectionate  husband, 

STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

January  2d. 
Dear  Sir, 

Although  I  am  at  liberty  from  actual  confinement,  yet 
I  partake  of  the  affliction  which  environs  you  on  every 
side.  I  wish  it  was  in  my  power  to  grant  you  some  re- 
lief; and  could  you  point  out  any  way,  in  which  such  an 
*object  can  be  effected,  most  gladly  will  I  attend  to  it.  It 
is  now  nearly  two  months  since  I  saw  you,  and  God  only 
knows  what  I  have  endured  since.  It  is  not  the  want  of 
friendship  Avhich  keeps  me  from  seeing  you.  My  thoughts, 
by  night  and  by  day,  are  with  you,  and  drink  deep  of  the 
cup  pf  affliction,  which  is  set  before  us.     I  dread  to  *  *  * 

I  am  determined  to  make  you  a  visit  as  soon  as  convenien- 
cy  will  admit,  unless  you  think  the  reasons  against  it  are 
too  great  to  be  dispensed  with.  The  conflict  between  *  * 
***********  ha^  been  groatly  trying,  but  it  is 


216  MEMOIRS  OF 

Tjow  decided.  I  am  determined,  in  future,  to  regulate 
my  conduct,  according  to  the  wishes  of  my  unhappy  part- 
ner,  let  the  feelings  of  others  be  as  they  may. 

I  shall  wait  with  anxious  expectations  for  your  answer 
to  this  letter,  specifying  your  wish  with  respect  to  my 
coming  to  Worcester. 

And  now,  dear  sir,  accept  the  advice  of  one  who,  in  the 
warmth  of  duty  and  affection,  feels  ardently  desirous  for 
your  welfare  and  prosperity. 

The  time  of  your  affliction  cannot  endure  always.  There 
must  be  an  end  to  these  trials.  Therefore,  sir,  1  wish  you 
would  compose  yourself  under  your  situation,  and  remain 
as  contented  under  it,  as  the  nature  of  the  thing  will  admit. 
Liook  forward  to  happier  scenes,  that  await  us  hereafter, 
in  spite  of  all  the  malice  of  the  demons  of  discord.  It  can- 
not render  your  situation  any  more  tolerable,  to  suffer 
yourself  to  be  thus  overborne  by  the  weight  of  your  mis- 
fortunes. Let  us  bear  with  fortitude  the  stroke  of  mis- 
fortune. Let  us  shew  to  the  world,  that  we  can  rise  above 
the  malicious  strokes  of  all  our  enemies.  While  I  give 
this  advice,  I  hardly  know  how  to  follow  it  myself.  My 
sorrows  make  me  almost  frantic  with  grief;  but  I  am  in 
hoj^es,  that  by  long  exertions,  I  shall  be  able  to  render 
them  more  tolerable.  I  remain,  with  constant^  fidelity, 
your  loving  wife,  SALLY  BURROUGHS. 

\2th  January. 
Mr  DEARy 

Yours  of  the  3d  inst.  I  gratefully  acknowledge  ;  in  it  I 
traced  the  marks  of  the  truest  affection.  How  grateful  to 
my  heart  these  tokens  of  esteem,  in  a  time  of  adversity. 
There  is  a  luxuriancy  of  enjoyment  in  sympathetic  friend- 
ship, when  the  doleful  knell  of  woe  tolls  in  my  ears,  which 
beggars  all  description.  In  your  letter,  you  advise  me  not 
to  feel  my  misfortune.  Do  you  know  that  we  were  both 
made  to  feel  ?  And  what  nature  has  done,  we  shall  find 
hard  to  undo.  Your  advice  was  founded,  I  know,  upon  the 
piinciples  of  true  benevolence,  but  think  you  mistake,  in 
some  measure,  the  operation  of  the  human  heart.  The 
most  certain  manner  of  lessening  our  agonies  is,  to  give 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  217 

fray  before  their  pressure,  and  confess  we  feel  their  force. 
Fortitude  is  but  a  dream ;  for  where  lies  the  merit  of 
being  insensible  to  the  stroke  of  adversity,  or  in  dis- 
sembling our  sensibility  ?  If  we  are  insensible,  that  is  en- 
tirely owing  to  a  happy  constitution,  formed  by  the  hand  of 
nature.  This  blessing  is  only  obtained  as  the  gift  of  hea- 
ven, in  our  formation.  No  ait  or  assiduity  ot"  ours  can 
ever  acquire  it.  If  we  dissemble  our  feelings,  we  only  en- 
deavor, by  artifice,  to  persuade  others  that  we  enjoy  privi- 
leges which,  in  fact,  we  do  not  enjoy ;  and  while  ^f  e  endea- 
vor to  appear  happy,  we  feel  ail  the  pangs  of  internal  mis- 
eiy,  and  all  the  self  reproach  of  endeavoring  to  deceive. 

Nothing  is  more  certain,  than  that  tears  'Uid  groans  grov.' 
out  of  pain  ;  and  when  misfortunes  oppress,  it  is  our  duty 
and  interest  to  take  refuge  under  such  coverts  from  the 
storm,  as  we  can  obtain.  To  fly  for  support  to  friendship. 
To  fly  for  support  to  waiiings  and  lamentation,  or  to  any 
thing  which  will  alleviate  our  distress. 

It  is  said  by  philosophers,  that  our  passions  are  the 
source  of  all  our  miseries  ;  this  hus  been  a  subject  of  abun- 
dant declamation.  I  ov/n  that  they  are  the  source  of  all 
our  misfortunes  ;  but  they  are,  at  the  same  time,  the  source 
of  allour4)leasures:  therefore,  the  study  of  our  lives  oughf 
to  be,  not  to  dissemble  an  absence  of  passion  ;  but  to  repel 
those  which  leiid  to  vice,  by  those  which  direct  to  virtue. 

Your  visit  vv^as  a  most  grateful  circumstance  :  tlicre  is  a 
pleasure  hi  seeing  you,  «ven  here,  though  intermingled 
with  grief,  v*hich  is  a  great  allcviuiion  to  my  state  of  dis- 
tress. Next  to  seeing  you,  is  the  pleasure  of  receiving 
your  letters.  I  v/ish  you  to  favor  me  with  this  latter  agree- 
able circumstance  as  often  as  conveniency  will  permit.  T 
remain,  with  the  warmest  sentiments  of  affection,  your 
loving  husband,        ^  STEPHEx^f  BURROUGHS. 

5th  Februanj. 
Dear  Sis, 

Yours  of  the  12th  of  last  month  was  handed  me  this 
morning.  Since  I  was  at  Worcester,  I  have  written  to 
Daddy  Burroughs.  I  hereby  send  you  inclosed  a  copy  of 
my  letter. 

T 


:i8  MEMOIRS  OF 

You  may  think,  that  my  anxiety  for  your  welfare,  led  me 
to  take  such  measures,  in  the  course  of  my  advice,  as 
Mould  not  answer  the  purpose  which  I  had  designed.  What 
I  expressed,  Avas  the  overflowings  of  my  heart.  You,  un- 
doubtedly, will  make  such  use  of  it  ss  your  superior  judg- 
ment will  point  out.  I  have  the  most  ardent  desire  for 
your  prosperity.  I  suggest  such  ideas  for  its  accomplish- 
ment, as  my  weak  capacity  will  produce.  Perhaps  I  view 
matters  too  much  on  the  dark  side.  But,  when  I  take  a 
view  of  what  has  happened  to  you  since  you  came  upon 
the  stage  of  action  ;  of  the  invincible  prejudice  mankind 
have  rooted  in  their  minds  against  you,  and  of  the  horrid 
effects  of  prejudice,  I  cannot  but  tremble  at  your  approach- 
ing fate. 

We  often  riew  with  horror  the  effects  of  superstition 
upon  the  mind  of  man,  in  matters  of  religion.  We  have 
seen  the  most  sensible  of  men  led  into  such  acts  of  barba- 
rity ?ind  cruelty,  as  have  disgraced  the  human  character, 
by  the  shocking  influence  of  superstiiion.  I  find  that  su- 
perstition is  not  alone  confined  to  matters  of  religion.  Its 
rage  is  equally  great  against  a  character  unpopular  from 
any  other  cause.  A  character,  however  loaded  with  infa- 
my, retaining  the  principles  of  virtue,  is  the  greatest  orna- 
ment to  human  nature,  of  any  part  of  her  existence.  Many 
regard  Airtue  only  as  it  is  attended  with  applause.  Those 
who  are  really  virtuous,  regard  it  for  the  internal  pleasure 
which  it  confers.  Such  models  I  wish  were  held  up  to 
Aiew  as  worthy  of  imitation.  Believe  me  to  be,  with  sen- 
timents of  the  sincerest  affection,  your  loving  and  dutiful 
wife,  SALLY  BURROUGHS. 

Honored  and  dear  Sir, 

You  will  hardly  entertain  an  idea  of  my  attempting  to 
lay  open  to  your  view,  the  bleeding  anguish  of  my  heart ; 
the  distressed  situation  to  which  your  son  is  reduced  ;  and 
the  agony  of  mind,  I  endure  on  that  account ;  this  is  be- 
yond the  power  of  language.  It  must  require  a  very  fer- 
tile mind,  and  an  heart  of  great  sensibility,  even  to  figure, 
the  most  distant  resemblance  of  this  horrid  situation. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  219 

To  give  you  some  idea  of  these  events.  About  3  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  the  room  rn  which  we  slept  was  broken 
open  by  a  man  by  the  name  of  Israel  Waters,  attended  by 
a  sheriff,  and  a  number  of  others,  w*ho  seized  your  son,  and 
with  a  very  imperious  tone,  bade  him  get  up  immediate- 
ly, and  dress  himself.  He  was  then  conveyed  to  the  house 
of  this  Waters,  who  was  a  near  neighbor,  or  rather  lived 
in  the  neighborhood,  where  he  -was  kept  through  the  next 
day,  closely  confined. 

It  appeared  iha;  this  Waters  had,  of  his  own  self  mov- 
ing will,  intermeddled  in  a  matter  in  wluch  he  was  neither 
mediately  nor  immediately  concerned ;  had  applied  to  a 
justice,  living  at  the  distance  of  twenty  miles,  to  make  in- 
quest into  these  matters  of  charge,  although  a  number  of 
justices  lived  in  the  vicinity  ;  had  brought  forward  an  at- 
torney to  exert  himself  in  the  business,  to  your  son's  dis- 
advantage ;  under  these  circumstances,  you  will  not  readi- 
ly suppose  that  Waters  acted  from  a  principle  of  the 
strictest  uprightness  in  this  prosecution,  neither  sought 
for  an  impartial  investigation  of  the  business. 

The  charges  were  truly  of  a  heinous  nature;  but  the 
evidences  brought  forward  in  support  of  these  charges 
TN'ere  of  a  kind  too  ridiculous  to  mention.  There  may  be 
iiomething  in  this  business,  which  is  seen  by  the  gentle- 
men of  the  law  ;  but  p.s  for  my  own  part,  I  cannot  see  the 
most  distant  color  of  evidence  to  support  the  charge.  Ad- 
ded to  this,  your  son's  conduct,  ever  since  my  acquaintance 
•with  him,  bus  not  borne  the  most  distant  appearance  of 
such  a  principle,  either  in  his  treatment  of  me,  or  his  con- 
duct towards  others.  Under  these  circumstances,  you 
cannot  wonder  at  my  feeling  very  different  upon  this  sub- 
ject, from  what  many  Y/oidd  wish,  who  have  raised  a 
clamor  against  him. 

And  now,  honored  and  dear  sir,  let  me  ask  you,  v.'hat 
V*  ouid  be  your  sensations,  should  your  bosom  companion 
be  taken  from  you  in  such  a  barbarous  and  cruel  manner, 
thrown  into  prison,  there  to  remain  confined  a  long  time, 
without  some  benevolent  friend  would  appear  and  give 
boil  ?  I  know  the  bail  is  excessive,  but  I  can  procure  one 
half  of  the  security  from  one  of  my  neighbors  ;  therefore, 


220  MEMOIRS  OF 

let  me  beg  of  you,  sir,  to  come  down  and  sec  your  unhap- 
py son. 

'  Were  you  under  similar  circumstances  with  us,  would 
3'ou  not  wish,  would  you  not  expect,  that  your  parent  would 
r.fford  you  relief  under  such  a  situation  ?  I  am  perfectly 
sensible  that  you  will  run  no  risk,  in  performing  this  act 
of  kindnesg. 

I  do  not  feel  a  willinp^ness  to  receive  a  denial  to  this  re- 
quest, 9.0  much  depends  upon  your  granting  my  petition. 

Had  I  the  most  distant  jealousy,  that  any  danger  would' 
attend  this  act  of  kindness,  I  should  not  presume  upon 
this  petition  ;  but,  as  I  feel  the  most  unlimited  confidence 
in  every  engagement  being  performed  on  our  part,  1  can- 
not dismiss  the  subject  without  entreating  you,  by  every 
Sventiment  of  justice,  of  humanity,  and  parental  affection, 
rf  compassion  to  the  sufferings  of  your  unhappy  children, 
to  listen  to  this  request  and  grant  my  petition.  I  remain 
vour  dutiful,  though  afilicted  and  soiTowful  daughter, 

SALLY  BURROUGHS. 

Rev.  Eden  Burroughs. 

I  was  confined,  notwithstanding,  until  the  sitting  of 
court.  When  I  was  brought  to  the  bar,  I  found  three  in- 
dictments against  me,  each  charging  me  with  an  assault, 
with  an  intent  to  commit  a  rape.  To  the  several  charges 
I  plead,  770^  guilty. 

At  this  time,  there  were  on  the  bench,  as  judges,  Dana^ 
Robert  'J'reat  Paine,  and  Nathan  Gushing  ;  James  Sulli- 
van, attorney-general. 

A  large  concourse  of  people  had  assembled  on  this  oc- 
casion ;  and  many  evidences  produced  in  behalf  of  the 
commonwealth  to  substantiate  the  charges  which  were 
brought  against  me. 

Alter  the  evidences  were  gone  through,  on  both  sides 
of  the  question,  and  my  counsel  had  made  t!ieir  remarks 
on  the  business,  the  attorney-general  arose,  and  address- 
ing himself  to  the  audience,  made  some  very  severe  re- 
marks upon  the  town  of  Charlton,  for  employing  me  \u 
the  business  of  teaching  a  school ;  and  observations,  yet 
more  severe  upon  the  clergyman  of  the  town  (Mr.  Camp- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  '221 

l}eli)  for  givlne^  his  approbation  to  such  a  business;  and 
raoreovGr,  for  even  shewing  compassion  to  nie  under  my 
present  situation.  Mr.  Campbell,  who  was  in  court,  arose, 
r.ncl  begged  leave  of  the  court  to  offer  one  word,  by  way  of 
reply,  to  wh:it  the  atiorney-general  had  observed,  relating 
to  him  ;  Judge  Paine  commanded  him  to  sit  down.  Mr. 
Campbell  replied,  ''  that  he  should  by  no  means  have 
made  the  reqr.est  of  addresshig  the  audience  upon  this  oc- 
casion, liad  not  !iis  name  been  drawn  into  question,  in  this 
very  sing-uLir  r.nd  extraordinary  manner,  being  thus  pub- 
licly charged  with  blame,  and  that  too,  in  the  most  wanton 
manner,  when  it  was  no  way  connected  with  the  cause  up- 
on trial ;  under  these  circumstances,  he  thought  himself 
v/arranted  to  ask  and  insist,  upon  the  privilege  of  answer- 
ing the  ungenerous  aspersions  which  had  been  throv/n 
upon  his  character."  Witliout  answering  his  reasons, 
judges  Dana  and  Paine  ordered  him,  in  the  most  peremp- 
tory manner,  to  sit  down.  He  accordingly  desisted,  and 
sat  down. 

To  account  for  this  very  singular  conduct,  I  will  olTer 
you  what  evidence  I  ever  received  upon  the  subject.  Mr. 
Campbell,  who  w^as  a  man  of  feeling,  had  often  expressed 
his  sentiments  upon  my  imprisonment,  Sec.  as  being  too 
severe  j  this  highly  displeased  Waters,  and  he  threatened 
tliat  Mr.  Campbell  should  be  disobliged  at  court,  if  lie  did 
not  change  his  sentiments.  This,  I  suppose,  Avas  the  pun- 
ishment contemplated. 

After  the  attorney-general  had  finished  his  address  to 
the  audience  and  jury,  he  sat  down;  and  judge  Cashing 
arose,  and  summed  up  the  evidence  to  the  jury  in  a  very 
clear,  candid  and  impartial  manner.  After  he  had  sat 
down,  judge  Pcdne  arose  and  addressed  the  jury  in  a  speech 
of  an  hour's  length. 

This  was  a  subject,  in  which  he  appeared  engaged  to 
the  last  degree.  In  the  course  of  his  observations  he 
took  notice  of  every  circumstance  which  made  against  me, 
either  in  the  feelings  of  people  or  in  point  of  law. 

After  him,  followed  judge  Dana,  in  a  speech  of  equal 
length.  After  exhausting:  himself,  in  persvading  thejurvl 
T  2 


222  MEMOIRS  OF 

\vus  guilty;  after  repeating  the  severe  remarks  against 
lliG  town  of  Charlton  and  Mr.  Campbell,  he  desisted. 

You  uiil  take  nciice,  that  at  this  time,  two  juries  were 
bitting  upon  two  indictments.  The  next  morning,  one 
jury  returned  their  verdict,  guilty.    The  other,  not  guilty. 

Immediately  upon  this,  I  was  again  indicted  for  two 
ether  crimes,  founded  upon  the  same  facts,  and  supported 
by  the  same  evidence,  as  was  exhibited  upon  the  former 
indictments,  viz.  "  open,  gross,  lewd,  and  lascivious  con- 
duct." To  these  charges,  I  plead  not  guilty,  but  after- 
\vard,  by  the  advice  of  my  counsel,  entered  a  retrcucit^  and 
plead  guilty. 

My  counseUalledged,  that  one  jury  had  already,  upon 
the  evidence,  brought  me  in  guilty  of  attempdng  to  rav- 
ish ;  '*  that  it  v/ould  not  be  so  extr>iordinary  for  them  to 
find  me  guilty  of  the  crime  now  laid  to  my  charge,  as  it  was 
for  them,  to  return  a  verdict  against  me  on  the  other  indict- 
ment ;  and  if  they  should  return  an  unfavorable  verdict, 
the  court,  it  was  probable,  would  be  more  severe  in  their 
sentence,  than  what  they  would,  should  I  throw  myself 
en   their  mercy,  by  pleading  guilty." 

I  objected  to  this  for  the  following  reasons,  viz.  "  I  am 
accused,"  s:dd  I,  "  of  open  lewdness.  According  to  the 
account  of  the  witnesses,  every  thing  which  took  place, 
was  in  private ;  therefore,  how  it  can  be  said,  that  open 
lewdness  is  proved  by  this  testimony,  1  cannot  conceive. 
Open  lewdness  is  every  thing  of  that  kind  which  the  law 
censures  and  punishes  ;  therefore,  it  appears  to  me  plain, 
that  only  a  bare  possibility  remains  for  a  jury  to  be  so  far 
led  astray  as  to  think  the  indictment  supported.'*  Not- 
Avithstanding  these  objections,  ray  counsel  did  not  alter 
their  opinion,  therefore,  I  submitted  and  plead  guilty. 

Immediately  after  this,  the  following  petition  was  pre- 
sented to  the  bench. 

To  tilt  JiGnor  able  ^  the  Justices  cfthe  Su/ire?ne  Court  of  the 
State  cf  Massachusetts. 
May  it  please  your  horrors  to  accept  the  petition  of  an 
unh-ippy  female,  borne  down  under  a  weight  of  almost  in- 
support  ble  grief.  May  a  view  of  her  distressed  situation 
find  the  tender  avenues  of  sensibility,  and  plead  in  her  be- 


S^TEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  232 

half,  for  mercy   and  compassion  to  attend  the   terrifying* 
sentence  of  judgment. 

My  husband,  the  tender  companion  of  ray  life,  is  no\T 
about  to  receive  sentence  of  your  honors  ;  and  O  !  for  the 
sake  of  mercy,  the  brlt^htest  attribute  of  the  Deity  ;  for 
his  sake,  who  has  been  the  kindest  and  tenderest  of 
husbands,  both  in  prosperity  and  the  more  gloomy  mo- 
ments of  adversity  ;  for  the  sake  of  my  peace  of  mind,  al- 
ready torn  with  the  most  poignant  grief;  spare  him,  as 
much  as  may  be  consistent  with  the  important  trust  re- 
posed in  your  honors. 

I  beg  for  his  restoration  to  his  family,  as  soon  as  your 
honors  may  think  it  consistent ;  and  I  will  watch  over 
him,  with  all  the  diligence  of  anxious  solicitude,  that  he 
shall  be  a  strict  observer  of  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  a  ben- 
efit to  the  community. 

May  I  not  be  permitted  to  suggest,  that  I  cannot  but 
view  his  conduct,  with  respect  to  the  crimes  of  which  he 
now  stands  convicted,  in  a  very  different  light  from  what 
they  appeared  to  the  court ;  being  particularly  acquaint- 
ed with  circumstances  which  my  relation  to  him  prevents 
me  from  exhibiting  in  testimony.    . 

I  have  found  his  conduct,  ever  since  our  acquaintance, 
marked  with  strict  fidelity,  and  must  think,  from  his  per- 
severing conduct,  for  more  than  two  years,  that  his  pre- 
vailing desire  is  to  be  an  unshaken  supporter  of  the  laws 
of  the  land. 

May  the  unening  fountain  of  wisdom  guide  your  hon- 
ors in  the  path  of  duty,  and  give  you  the  consolation  of  be- 
ing good  and  faithful  servants.  May  the  gentle  influence 
of  mercy  be  your  portion  through  life  and  through  an  end- 
less eternity.  Thus  prays  your  sorrowful  and  humble 
petitioner,  SALLY  BURROUGHS. 

Whether  all  these  things  served  to  molify  the  fcelingi 
of  the  Bench  towards  me,  you  will  more  readily  judge  by 
the  sentences  themselves,  which  were  to  this  effect : 
"  That  1  should  receive  one  hundred  and  seventeen  stripes 
on  the  naked  back  ;  Jihould  stand  two  hours  in  the  pillory  ; 
should  sit  one  hour  on  the  gallows,  w'ith  a  rope  around  my 


•4  MEMOIRS  OF 

r.eck;  that  I  should  remain  confined  in  prison  three 
months ;  that  I  should  procure  bonds  for  good  behavior 
for  seven  years,  and  pay  the  charges  of  prosecution." 

1  was  remanded  to  prison.  I  was  afterwards  led  to  the 
place  of  execution,  and  suffered  tv/o  thirds  of  the  punish- 
ment which  was  comprised  in  the  sentence.  A  day  was 
appointed  for  the  execution  of  the  remainder.  Previous 
to  this  time  I  left  the  jail,  the  country,  and  my  enemies, 
to  their  own  rciiections.    #.  *   ,».   *  ^  *  ^  *  ^  *  ^  *  ^  *| 

In  addition  to  my  account,  I  will  subjoin  an  extract  of 
a  letter  from  a  gentleman  of  high  respectability,  and  an 
old  practitioner  of  law,  who  was  present,  through  the 
wliole  transaction,  to  a  friend  of  his  upon  this  occasion. 

An  Extract  of  a  Letter. 

We  have  undoubtedly  many  inducements  to  regular, 
honest  and  moral  habits.  I  believe  our  liability  to  suspi- 
cion, when  outrages  against  morality  occur,  or  the  deeds 
of  darkness  are  developed  without  their  author,  and  to  the 
imputation  of  a  thousand  irregularities  and  vices  of  which 
■we  are  entirely  innocent,  is  not  the  smallest.  The  world, 
in  general,  for  the  same  reason  it  calculates  that  the  sun 
will  rise  to-morrow,  because  it  rose  to-day,  imputes  to  him, 
who  has  been  once  in  a  fault,  the  commission  of  an  hun- 
dred others. 

This  truth  was  very  strongly  proved  to  nie,  a  few  weeks 
ago,  in  the  trial  of  S.  B.  at  the  supreme  court,  at  Worces- 
ter.    Three  bills   of  indictment  w'ere  presented  against 

f  It  was  not  prudent  for  the  author,  at  the  time  of  this  publica- 
tion, to  relate  the  manner  in  wiiicli  he  made  his  escape  from  the 
prison  in  Worcester.  It  is  presumed  that  no  injury  can  nov.-  ai-ise 
from  a  disclosure  of  the  secret.  H 

It  is  a  notorious  fact,  that  many  people  in  the  vicinity  were^f 
opinion  that  Bun'oughs  was  too  sevei'ely  punished;  among' whom 
were  some  of  tlie  first  characters  m  the  county.  BuiToug-hs  was 
aware  of  this,  and  cherished  secret  hopes  ofdeliverar.ee.  One  night, 
about  12  o'clock,  he  says  his  prison  ^.oor  was  forced  open,  and  he 
was  x-equested  to  depart.  He  walked  out,  and  passed  between  two 
ranks  of  people  to  a  great  distance  ;  the  number  appearing  to  him 
not  less  than  a  thousand.  All  this  time  there  was  a  profound  si- 
lence ;  and  he  departed,  ignonmt  of  the  names  of  one  of  his  deliv- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  225 

liim  for  three  several  assaults,  upon  three  young  women, 
■with  a  felonious,  though  baffled  intent,  each  time  to  com- 
mit a  rape.  The  charges  were  solemn.  A  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses was  gathered  round  him,  to  bear  testimony  to  the 
facts.  The  intended  victims  to  his  violence  were  there 
also.  The  prisoner,  on  arraignment  at  the  bar,  plead  not 
guilty  to  the  several  indictments  ;  and  put  himself  on  the 
country  for  trial.  S.  the  attorney-general  managed  the 
prosecution  on  the  part  of  the  commonwealth ;  and  S.  S. 
and  L.  were  advocates  for  the  prisoner. 

It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  if  the  trial  of  the  man,  who 
preached  the  sermon  on  the  hay-mow  to  the  Pelhamites, 
of  whom,  while  a  prisoner  on  the  Castle,  many  curious  and 
diverting  anecdotes  had  been  told,  and  were  still  freshly 
remembered,  had  collected  an  uncommon  assemblage  of 
both  sexes,  of  women  especially ;  when  we  add  the  na- 
ture of  tliC  offence  to  the  consideration. 

The  witnesses  for  the  commonwealth  were  first  exam- 
ined. The  three  girls  who  had  suffered  the  injury  for 
which  the  prisoner  was  arraigned,  were  the  most  materi- 
al. They  told  their  stories  so  pertly,  that  their  declara- 
tions seemed  to  be  rather  memoieter  than  impromptu.  I 
do  not  recollect  all  the  particulars  of  their  testimony  ;  but 
could  not  help  reckoning  up  the  strong  inducements  the 
poor  giiis  had,  to  patch  up  as  good  a  story  as  they  could, 
to  vindicate  their  own  characters  ;  enough  of  the  circum- 
stances of  the  transactions,  through  accident,  or  their  own 
carelessness,  had  already  leaked  out,  to  render  their  virtue 
questionable ;  the  world  would  make  its  own  comments. 
The  prisoner  had  been  with  them  in  private,  and  used 
them  indelicately.  If  ihey  had  fallen  unv.iiling  victims 
to  his  lust,  it  was  not  their  fault.  But  then,  though  their 
virtue  remained  ;is  spotless  as  before,  that  indescribable 
something,  thcit  creature  of  our  whims,  that  pov/er  to 
charm  the  men  of  this  woricl,  was  weakened  ;  and  though 
they  might  still  make  as  good  members  of  the  church, 
they  would  not  prove  such  luscious  brides. 

One  of  the  girls  testified,  that  the  prisoner  (one  evening, 
after  he  had  dismissed  his  school,  and  after  the  other 
scholars  were  gone,  she  being  left  alone  with  him  in  the 


226  MEMOIRS  OF 

school-house)  attempted  to  persuade  her  to  indelicate  in- 
dulgences ;  took  hold  of  her ;  behaved  quite  unseemly  ; 
and  made  some  exertions  to  induce  her  to  comply  ;  not 
however,  sufficient  to  require  very  strong  efforts  to  prevent 
him,  or  cries  to  raise  help,  necessary  ;  that  at  ;inother 
time,  afterwards,  as  she  was  returning  home  from  school 
in  the  evening,  in  company  with  others,  the  prisoner  over- 
took them,  was  riding,  and,  as  she  had  some  length  of 
way  to  walk,  persuaded  her  to  get  up  behind  him,  offering 
to  carry  her  home  ;  that  having  rode  some  distance  with 
her,  he  stopped  his  horse,  and  took  her  from  behind,  and 
placed  her  before  him  ;  and  behaved  quite  indecently  ; 
but  that  upon  her  resisting  he  desisted. 

Another  of  the  girls  siid,  the  prisoner  one  day  finding 
her  in  the  barn,  had  attempted  the  same  thing  much  in  the 
same  manner. 

The  third  said,  he  had  enticed  her  one  evening  a  few 
rods  from  the  house,  and  they  coming  to  a  fence  in  their 
Walk  together,  he  took  her  up  in  his  arms  and  lifted  her 
over,  and  pulled  her  dovTn  upon  the  ground,  and  attempt- 
ed familiurities  similar  to  the  others  ;  that  on  her  making 
resistance,  he  desisted.  She  did  not  cry  out  ;  and  I  have 
forgot  whether  she,  or  any  of  the  others,  gave  any  reason 
•why  they  did  not. 

i'his  is  quite  an  abridgment  of  the  testimony  ;  but  I  be- 
lieve it  contdins  all  the  material  fncts  and  circumstances, 
and  is  accurate  and  particular  enough  to  furnish  data  for 
an  oj>inion  upon  the  nature  of  the  offences. 

The  jury  who  tried  the  prisoner  on  the  first  indictment, 
gave  their  verdict,  guilty.  The  verdict  of  the  second  jury 
was,  7iot  guilty.  The  attorney-general  then  entered  a  7iole 
jiro-^equi  to  the  third  indictment;  and  the  prisoner  was  im- 
mediately arrai.^ned  to  answer  to  two  new  bills,  charging 
him  with  open  and  gross  lewdness  and  lasciviousness.  To 
them  he  \A<c,\.\^ guilty.  And  it  appeared  to  me,  his  conduct 
amounted  to  no  more  in  either  of  the  cases ;  though  the 
court,  in  stating  the  evidence,  and  giving  their  opinion  to 
the  jury  on  the  two  trials,  were  strongly  set  against  the 
prisoner.  It  will  at  any  rate,  I  believe,  be  allowed,  that  if 
th£  prisoner  merited  the  charge,  he  was;  in  one  in=i  nrf^. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  227 

quite  original  in  the  manner  of  the  offence.  Who,  but  he 
would  ever  have  thought  of  attempting  to  commit  a  rape 
on  horse-back  ?  Surely,  if  he  had  succeeded,  the  world 
might  well  say,  he  httd  fairly  outquixoted  Don  Quixote 
himself.  And  if  B.  had  really  attempted  what  the  girl 
said  he  did,  a  few  evenings  befm-e,  in  the  school-house,  her 
consenting  to  put  herself,  a  second  time,  in  his  power,  was 
no  very  strong  proof  of  her  discretion.  At  least,  we  must 
suppose,  her  jealousy  at  the  school-house  had  not  occa- 
sioned her  very  serious  alarms. 

The  affair  at  ■  he  barn,  and  that  also  at  the  fence,  were 
transacted  so  in  the  very  neighborhood  of  help,  if  it  had 
been  wanted,  as  to  render  the  charge  of  his  having  attempt- 
ed to  commit  a  rape,  in  either  of  those  cases,  incredible. 
We  cannot  imagine  any  rational  being  would  attempt  to 
commit  such  an  offence  in  a  place  where,  if  proper  resis- 
tance was  made  and  efforts  used,  he  must  certainly  be  dis- 
covered and  prevented.  And  if  such  resistance  was  not 
made,  he  could  not  be  concluded  guilty  of  the  crimes 
charged  agamst  him.  I  believe  the  conduct  of  the  pris- 
oner, in  these  instances,  if  impartially  scanned  (allowing 
that  the  girls  told  the  truth)  would  be  judged  nothing 
more,  than  so  many  resolute,  earnest  and  persevering  at- 
tempts to  seduce  them.  With  the  generality  of  those, 
who  have  heard  of  the  conviction,  it  is  possibly  a  matter 
of  indifference,  whether  he  was  really  guilty  as  charged  or 
not.  To  them,  the  remembrance  of  many  hard  things  re- 
port has  said  of  him,  that  he  has  been  a  prisoner  on  the 
Castle,  would  suggest  the  probability  that  he  had  been 
highly  culpable  in  this  instance,  and  produce  their  appro- 
bation of  the  verdict  against  him  ;  especially,  if  to  these 
were  added  the  consideration  that  the  offence  was  at  the 
lowest  estimation  of  it,  a  gross  indelicacy,  a  high  outrage 
upon  all  the  rules  and  principles  of  decorum  and  propriety. 

It  is  difficult,  in  such  a  case  as  this,  to  extend  to  a  pris- 
oner at  the  bar,  circumstanced  as  B.  was,  all  the  liberality 
of  that  excellent  maxim  which  instructs  us  to  presume 
the  respondent  innocent.  Yet  we  are  all  equally  entitled 
to  justice  ;  though  undoubtedly  our  courts  are  more  liable 
to  do  injustice  to  such  a  character  as  B.  than  to  one  that 
has  fewer  blemishes. 


228  MEMOIRS  OF 

Is  there  no  material  difference  between  the  crime  of 
seduction  and  that  of  committinij  a  rape  ?  Neither  of  them 
are  very  praiseworthy,  besure  ;  and  each  may  be  much  ag- 
gravated by  particular  circumstances.  But  our  legisla- 
tors make  a  wide  distinction  ;  and  the  difterence  is  very 
obvious  to  common  sense.  Is  it  material  or  not,  that  we 
observe  a  distinction  ?  I  imagine  the  poor  culprit,  who  is 
appointed  to  receive  chastisement  for  his  crime,  would 
not  feel  iridifferent  whether  he  should  be  whipped  or  hang- 
ed for  stealing. 

Thus  you  see,  sir,  facts  upon  which  you  have  to  form 
an  opinion,  relating  to  tliis  very  surprising  triul.  I  have 
endeavored,  so  far  as  my  judgment  would  serve,  to  treat 
the  characters  conceincd  in  this  business  with  as  much 
tenderness,  as  the  nature  of  a  faithful  narrative  will  admit. 
Wantonly  to  traduce  a  character,  is  a  species  of  conduct 
I  wish  by  all  means,  carefully  to  avoid  ;  and  where  it  has 
not  been  necessary,  in  order  to  give  a  true  narrative  of  the 
facts  which  I  promised,  I  have  studiously  suppressed  any 
such  emotion. 

Possibly  these  matters  may  not  appear  to  you  as  they 
have  done,  and  still  do,  to  me.  I  know  they  cannot  strike 
the  mind  of  any,  in  that  feeling  manner.  I  have  made  but 
a  faint  representation  of  them.  I  cannot  communicate 
those  ideas  and  sentiments,  by  writing,  so  fully  as  what 
they  appear  to  my  view  by  contemplation.  However,  we 
are  apt  to  estimate  the  feelings  of  others  by  our  own,  and 
judge  that  they  will  view  matters  in  the  same  m.anner  as 
v.x  do  ourselves.  In  this  estimation  we  often  find  our- 
selves mistaken.  Hence,  it  is  thought  by  many,  that 
that  person  who  feels  most  indifferent  towards  an  ob- 
ject, is  in  the  best  situation  to  form  a  true  estimate,  relat- 
ing to  that  object. 

I  differ  in  sentiment  with  those  who  hold  this  doctrine. 
I  know  we  are  otten  hurried  into  error,  by  the  operation 
of  our  attachment  to  certain  objects.  Our  passions,  our 
appetites,  and  our  zeal  combine  to  produce  this  effect ; 
hence,  many  conclude  that  it  is  necessary  to  feel  perfectly- 
indifferent  towards  an  object  in  order  to  form  a  true  esti- 
mation of  its  quality.     We  must  feel  interested  in  an  ob- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  229 

ject,  cither  directly  or  indirectly,  in  order  to  call  forth 
our  attention  towards  it,  sufficiently  to  examine  its  mer- 
its. When  we  feel  indifferent  towards  an  object,  we  pay 
no  attention  to  it,  and  of  course  remain  ignorant  respect- 
ing it  ;  therefore,  are  incapable  of  forming  a  just  estimate 
concerning  it. 

A  person,  wIk)  has  no  principle  of  humanity,  or  com- 
passion, may  hear  of  the  exercise  of  cruelty.  It  is  a  re- 
port which  finds  no  place  in  his  feelings  ;  he  is  indifferent 
as  to  its  existence  ;  therefore,  we  readily  see,  that  he  would 
be  an  unequal  judge  as  to  the  merits  of  the  report. 

Having  a  mind  of  sensibility,  I  know  these  matters  will 
have  their  due  operation  on  your  feelings,  and  under  this 
consideration,  I  shall  ever  receive  your  observations  with 
attertion,  and  pay  due  regard  to  your  ideas,  upon  any  mat- 
ter wherein  you  may  think  different  from  me. 

That  there  is  such  a  thing  as  right  and  wrong,  I  believe 
is  not  called  in  question  by  any  ;  and  that  we  are  all,  in 
some  measure,  capable  of  judging  with  propriety  upon 
this  subject,  is  equally  allowed.  That  we  may,  and  are  led 
astray  many  times,  in  foi'ming  an  estimate  of  the  principles 
of  distributing  justice,  is  a  truth  I  shall  by  no  means  deny  ; 
but  then  we  have  all,  I  believe,  a  sufricient  knowledge  to 
distinguish  upon  the  general  principles  of  justice,  at  least, 
where  we  allow  the  operation  of  reason,  without  the  em- 
barrassments of  prejudice. 

When  we  find  a  private  person  injured  by  a  public  body, 
many  circumstances  are  combined  to  lead  the  candid  rnind 
astray  in  the  investigation  of  such  a  subject.  Here  error 
is  most  likely  to  take  p'ace.  Popular  clamor  wi!)  be  rai-s- 
ed  against  the  injured  person  ;  Vns  is  like  the  noise  oi 
the  waters  of  Niagai^a  ;  this  swaliows  up  tbe  small  voice 
of  the  individuul. 

We  find  the  great  Alexander,  when  the  leading-  ::n 
of  the  world,  committing  acts  of  cruelty,  mjustice  .■,•.  op- 
pression ;  a  prospect  of  which,  at  tiiis  day,  makes  the 
blood  curdle  v/ith  horror  ;  yet,  those  very  actions  --ere  ex- 
tolled in  the  most  extravagant  manner  by  his  cotemporar/ 
sycophants;  and  mankind  gave  him  the  ..i^^^r  •'^u.e' ■:"»■;,• 
encomiums,  where  they  ought,  upon  the  simpie  pAucipies 

V 


230  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  right,  to  have  execrated  his  conduct.  This  is  a  speci- 
men of  public  opposition  to  private  individuals,  and  the 
effects  that  follow,  which  I  believe  will  hold  good  pretty- 
generally,  even  in  our  days.  Public  characters  are  as  lia- 
ble to  the  nnalignant  passions  as  other  men  ;  they  are  as 
prone,  likewise,  to  be  led  astray,  by  the  various  causes  that 
serve  to  lead  mankind  astray,  as  others  ;  but  when  they 
find  themselves  in  an  error,  they  falsely  suppose,  that  it 
derogates  from  their  dignity  to  acknowledge  their  error, 
and  repair  the  injury  which  they  have  perpetrated,  or 
even  to  have  it  suspected  that  they  have  been  in  an  error. 
How  false  this  system  to  the  dictates  of  reason  ;  how  can 
the  human  character  appear  in  a  more  exalted  point  of 
view,  than  by  shevving  a  readiness  to  acknowledge  and  re- 
pair the  injuries  which  our  own  misconduct  has  occa- 
sioned ? 

I  recollect  to  have  read  an  anecdote  of  Julius  Caesar, 
which  places  his  character  in  the  highest  point  of  exalta- 
tion of  any  part  of  his  conduct.  It  was  of  the  following 
nature.  One  day,  wLen  Csesar  was  in  the  forum,  sur- 
rounded with  the  patricians,  or  nobles  of  Rome,  a  certain 
slave  belonging  to  him  sought  his  manumission  from  his 
master.  Csesar  being  employed  about  weighty  matters 
of  the  commonwealth,  paid  little  attention  to  the  soiiciia- 
tions  of  his  slave.  After  repeated  importunity,  to  call  the 
attention  of  his  master  to  the  subject  which  lay  so  near  his 
heart,  the  slave  received  a  denial  to  his  request  for  his  free- 
dom. When  he  saw  that  no  further  hope  remained,  he 
reproached  his  master  in  the  bitterest  terms  ;  and  this 
loo  in  the  most  public  place  in  the  city  of  Rome. 

V>  hat  v»as  the  conduct  of  the  truly  great  Julius  at  this 
tit^.e  ?  His  attention  was  called  to  the  examination  of  his 
conduct,  m  order  to  see  whether  the  reproaches  of  his  slave 
were  founded  on  good  grounds  ;  or  whether  they  were  the 
liiere  ebullitions  of  wrath,  |j|i'oceeding  from  disappoint- 
ment. On  the  examinauon,  he  found  he  had  really  injur- 
ed the  slave.  His  reply  was  si^h,  as  wiil  support  his 
lUmc  as  long  as  the  name  ox  Julius  Cxsar  is  known.  "  You 
c-.i  e  right,"  said  he,  "  in  reproaching  n.e  fur  not  doing  you 
justice  J  it  is  the  only  alternative  you  have  for  redress.     I 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  231 

grant  you  your  freedom  because  I  ought.  I  further  grant 
you  six  hundred  sestertii,  because  you  had  the  fortitude  to 
accuse  me  of  injustice  when  I  was  guilty  1" 

Will  not  this  conduct  appear  admirable  to  every  candid 
mind  in  love  with  truth  ?  A  very  erroneous  idea  prevails 
ivith  many,  that  men  in  eminent  stations  never  ought  to 
have  their  conduct  called  in  question  until  the  last  ex- 
tremity. This  I  am  sensible  is  a  doctrine  very  pleasing 
to  many  who  possess  places  of  eminence,  and  maintain 
them,  perhaps  by  the  strength  of  it.  But  that  man  who 
can  adopt  the  v.'ords  of  Brutus,  in  his  answer  to  Cassius, 
"  for  I  am  wrapped  so  strong  in  honesty,  that  your  words 
pass  by  me  like  idle  winds  vv'hich  I  regard  not,'*  v.ill  nev- 
er feel  himself  exposed  to  losehi»  influence  upon  society, 
or  be  injured  by  the  closest  examination  into  his  conduct. 


CHAP.  xxni. 

"  Calamities  are  friends  ;  as  glaring  day 
"  Of  these  unnumber'd  lustres  robs  our  sight ; 
"  Prosperity  puts  out  unjiumber'd  thoughts 
"  Of  uTiport  high  and  light  divine  to  man." 

X.  HAD  determined  to  end  my  narrative  for  the  present, 
with  the  foregoing  letter,  but,  as  my  journey  to  the  west- 
ward is  prolonged  another  week,  I  will  devote  my  leisure 
moments,  during  this  week,  to  form  a  f^reweil  address  to 
the  best  of  men  and  the  dearest  of  friends. 

Perhaps  you  may  feel  somewhat  interested  in  the  con- 
tinuation and  issue  of  my  nan-ative.  Your  intimation  of 
such  an  idea  has  had  a  powerful  operation  on  my  mind  to 
induce  me  to  gratify  your  request.  You  wonder  I  do  not 
publish.  Are  not  these  scenes  too  disagreeable  to  be  call- 
ed again  into  view,  and  more  particularly  into  public  view  ? 
I  wish  I  could  forget  that  they  had  ever  existed  \  yet  I 
cannot  say  that  I  am  entirely  without  some  consolation  for 
these  afflictions.  They  have  learnt  me  a  lesson  which  no 
other  school  can  teach.  They  have  learaed  me  to  fcl 
the  woes  that  others  suffer.     They  have   learned   me  tv 


MEMOIRS  OF 

contribute  of  the  small  portion  ^vhich  I  possess  to  allevi- 
ate the  distresses  of  others ;  and  in  this,  sir,  there  is  a 
sensation  grateful  beyond  description. 

It  is  not  without  pain  that  I  vi«w  my  prospect  of  leav- 
in;^  you  and  your  agreeable  family  for  a  season,  Vv  ere  it 
iiotforthe  prospect  of  being  sooner  able  to  provide  for  my 
own  family,  I  think  no  motive,  honever  lucrative,  would 
induce  me  to  leave  my  present  agreeable  situation  ;  but, 
sir,  not witii standing  I  am  surrounded  with  this  agreeable 
society,  and  in  it  enjoy  a  great  portion  of  happiness  in  the 
social  line,  yet  1  cannot  feel  entirely  at  ease,  whilst  my 
family  is  at  a  distance. 

We  find  that  this  situation  appears  desirable  from  the 
time  of  our  first  coniing  upon  the  stage  of  active  life,  un- 
til we  settle  in  a  matrimonial  state.  Both  sexes  are  look- 
ing forward  to  this  as  the  end  of  their  pursuits  ;  and  when 
due  attention  is  paid  to  the  business,  and  such  connexion 
formed  as  the  laws  of  nature  enjoin  ;  I  believe,  that  man 
arrives  to  the  greatest  state  of  happiness  tie  is  capable  of 
feijoying.  It  has  ever  appeared  to  me,  however,  surpris- 
ing, that  60  little  attention  has  been  exerted  to  form  such 
connexions  between  the  two  sexes  as  are  congenial  to  na- 
ture. I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  no  one  need  be  left 
destitute  of  a  partner,  entirely  calculated  to  render  each 
other  as  happy  as  what  things  in  this  world  will  admit» 
should  a  regard  be  had  to  tempers,  feelings,  views,  &c. 
previous  to  forming  the  matrimonial  connexion. 

Various  are  the  objects  which  occupy  the  attention  of 
mankind  in  their  pursuits  after  happiness  ;  none,  perhaps, 
more  tluui  riches  and  power.  When  these  are  obtained, 
they  give  a  momentary  spring  to  enjoyment ;  but  soon 
the  soul  reverts  back  to  its  former  state,  and  is  left  with- 
out any  greate?  sensations  of  happiness  than  what  are  en- 
joyed in  a  state  of  poverty  and  impotence  ;  therefore,  but 
a  very  small  difference  remains  between  the  poor  and  the 
rich,  the  humble  and  the  powerful,  as  to  actual  enjoyment. 

Did  we  act  as  philosophers,  we  should  turn  our  atten- 
tion from  those  objects  which  a  length  of  experience  has 
taught  us  are  futile  in  our  pursuit  of  happiness  ;  and  place 
our  thoughts  upon  such    subjects  as  are  calculated  by  na- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  233 

tuve  to  grant  us  that  enjoyment  which  we  are  ever  seek- 
ing after.  All  this  may  be  found  in  friendship  ;  and  the 
greatest  friendship  is  formed  in  the  intimate  connexion  of 
matrimony. 

We  find  many  times  jars  and  feuds  taking  place  in  fa- 
milies. The  husband  and  wife  drag  on  a  life  through  a 
course  of  bitter  recriminations.  From  a  view  of  these 
matters,  many  are  led  to  despise  and  ridicule  the  married 
state.  Were  we  to  reprobate  every  condition  in  which 
some  do  not  happily  succeed,  there  is  no  calling  or  pur- 
suit in  life,  but  what  would  fail  under  our  animadversion. 
But  one  striking  evidence,  in  favor  of  the  happiness  en- 
joyed, even  in  the  most  disagreeable  matrimonial  connex- 
ions, is,  that  a  separation  i*  dreaded,  and  never  had  re- 
course to,  only  in  cases  of  the  last  extremity  j  as  Young 
pertinently  expresses, 

"  Like  peevish  man  and  wife, 

"  United  jar,  and  yet  are  iotb.  to  part.*' 

I  believe,  sir,  you  \si\\  think  me  very  wandering  in  my 
observations,  and  preaching  a  doctrine  to  one  who  stands  in 
little  need  of  instruction  upon  this  head  ;  seeing  your  it- 
mily  connexions  are  such,  that  you  need  no  arguments  to 
enforce  the  necessity  of  enjoying  yourself  in  your  siiuation. 
I  know,  sir,  your  situation  in  tiiat  connexion,  is  peculiarly 
agreeable  ;*  therefore,  I  considered  that  you  would  r,<;t 
only  see  the  truth  of  my  observations,  but  likewise  feel  it ; 
and  it  is  a  pleasure  to  preach  to  those  wiio  feel  the  truih 
of  our  doctiine. 

I  have  determined  here  to  give  you  a  relation  of  some 
events  which  took  place  in  the  course  of  my  life,  in  point 
of  time,  some  earlier  than  where  I  have  arrived;  but, 
which  crAild  not  be  introduced  in  the  course  of  the  narra- 
tive, .vithout  interrupting  the  order  ;  therefore,  I  com  hid- 
ed to  omit  it,  until  some  convenient  lime,  in  which  I  should 
not  break  in  upon  the  relation  of  that  chcdn  of  events  wliich 
appeared  to  be  more  closely  connected  together.  I  giv--? 
you  the  relation  of  these  incidents,  in  order  to  illustrate 
one  of  the  reasons  v,hy  popular  prejudice  had  arrived  to 
siich  a  pitch  against  me. 
u  2 


234  MEMOIRS  OF 

I' was  one  day  travelling  in  Massachusetts,  and  late  at 
nit^ht,  put  up  at  a  tavern  where  I  was  a  stranger,  as  I  ap- 
prehended. Soon  after  I  arrived,  being  fatigued  with  the 
journey  of  the  day,  I  retired  to  rest.  This  was  previous 
to  ray  marriage.  About  ten  at  night,  I  was  awaked  by 
somebody  at  the  bed  side.  Upon  my  opening  my  eyes,  I 
recognized  the  person  as  an  old  acquaintance  whom  I  had 
not  seen  for  several  years.  I  asked  him  where  he  lived, 
how  he  came  there,  and  by  what  means  he  became  pos- 
sessed with  the  knowledge  of  my  being  in  the  house  ?  At 
these  questions  he  stared  at  me  with  a  countenance  of 
surprise.  He  asked  me  where  my  wife  was  ?  I  was 
equally  surprised  at  this  question.  "  How,'*  said  he,  "  do 
you  wish  to  conceal  the  matter  from  me  ?  I  am  acquaLnted 
with  the  circumstances  of  your  marrying  ■  ■  — — , 
of  your  carrying  her  away,  and  to  endeavor  to  hide  it  from 
UTiC,  argues  no  very  honest  design  in  you.'' 

You  will  not  \vondcr  at  my  surprise  being  increased  by 
1:hesc  observations.  I  told  him  his  conversation,  to  me, 
was  wholly  unintelligible,  that  he  talked  to  me  of  a  wife, 
he.  that  I  never  was  married,   and  what  he  meant  by  hfs 

observations  about was  an  enigma  to  me, 

never  before  hearing  the  name  of  such  a  person;  that  I 
was  an  absolute  stranger  in  the  town,  and  supposed  my- 
self equally  unknov/n  in  the  house,  until  I  was  avv^aked  by 
him. 

This  declaration  brought  on  an  explanation.  He  toid 
mc,  that  a  man  calling  himself  Stephen  Burroughs,  had 
been  in  that  town,  had  become  acquainted  in  a  respecta- 
ble family,  had,  in  opposition  to  all  the  efforts  of  the  fami- 
ly, married  a  daughter  and  carried  her  away  ;  alledging, 
ihat  he  was  going  to  Hanover  to  live  with  his  father,  and 
rb.at  ihey  had  received  no  information  from  their  daughter 
.-inte. 

1  observed  to  this  young  man,  that  I  thought  it  surpris- 
ing, that  he  should  be  deceived  by  the  artifice  made  use 
of;  ihat  he  certainly  must  have  ItnovvTi  whether  the  per- 
son Mils  in  fact  whut  he  pretended  to  be.  He  answered, 
that  being  absent  on.a  journey  during  this  time,  he  never 
saw  il;e  person  ^  th^i  had  he  even  been  at  home,  the  de- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  2J5 

ception  might  have  passed  undiscovered  ;  for  no  one 
doubted  as  to  his  being  the  person  whose  character  he 
had  assuir.ed ;  and  without  accident  had  thrown  him  in 
my  way,  I  might  never  have  seen  him. 

After  this  conversation,  the  young  man  left  me,  and 
soon  agc.in  my  eyes  were  closed  in  sleep.  I  had  not  slept 
more  than  an  hour  and  an  half,  or  two  hours,  before  I  was 
again  aroused  from  sleep  by  the  same  young  man  ;  when 
I  had  awoke,  I  saw  in  the  room  an  old  man  and  his  wife  ; 
they  approached  the  bed,  the  woman  broke  out  into  the 
bitterest  lamentations,  crying,  "  it  is  not  he, h  ru- 
ined, gone  off  with  a  vagabond,  no  one  knows  where.'* 
The  father's  countenance  was  a  picture  of  distress,  though 
his  sorrows  did  not  break  forth  with  such  ungovernable 
rage.  Here  was  a  scene  truly  affecting.  The  distress  of 
the  parents  was  exquisite ;  and  what  gave  the  greatest 
poignancy  to  their  sufferings  was,  they  were  left  without 
hope. 

Whether  they  have  ever  found  their  daughter,  I  am  not 
able  to  say,  having  never  seen  or  heard  from  them  since. 

At  another  time,  passing  through  a  part  of  Connecticut, 
I  called  at  a  tavern  for  some  refreshment,  where  I  had 
been  previously  acquainted  ;  I  was  asked,  with  some  sur- 
prise, how  I  had  made  my  escape  from  jail?  This  ques- 
tion immediately  introduced  a  dispute  between  the  land- 
lord and  myself.  He  affirming  that  Iliad  been  commit- 
ted for  theft,  and  I  with  equal  assurance  denying  it. 

This  dispute  produced  so  much  noise,  that  I  was  appre- 
Hended  and  carried  back  to  jail,  as  they  supposed  ;  but 
when  we  arrived,  what  was  the  surprise  of  my  landlord, 
and  the  constable,  when  we  found  the  Stephen  Burroughs 
who  had  been  committed  for  horse-stealing,  quietly  re- 
maining where  he  was  first  confined. 

The  facts  upon  v.hich  this  laughable  mistake  took  place, 
were  of  the  following  nature,  viz.  a  certain  person  had 
been  apprehended  and  committed  to  jail,  under  a  suspi- 
cion of  horse-stealing.  My  landlord,  who  had  formerly 
known  me,  heard  that  a  person,  by  the  name  of  Stephen 
Burroughs  had  been  committed  to  jail.  This  immedi= 
ately  fixed  an  idea  in  his  mind^that  L  was  confined  und&r 
\he  s'.'qjiclon  of  theft. 


236  MEMOIRS  OF 

For  some  reason,  the  person,  who  had  been  committed, 
chose  to  assume  my  name  and  character,  which  circum- 
stance not  only  deceived  my  landlord,  but  likewise  caused 
the  report  to  be  circulated  that  I  was  detected  in  horse- 
stealing. 

Had  I  conducted  the  business  a  little  different,  when  I 
was  accosted  by  the  landlord,  perhaps  the  matter  would 
never  have  cdme  to  an  explanation.  He  did  not  seem  in- 
clined to  apprehend  me,  at  first;  but,  when  I  treated  his 
.assertion  with  some  harshness,  he  manifested  a  disposi- 
tion to  let  me  know  that  I  was  in  his  power  ;  and  that  he 
would  exercise  that  power,  unless  I  soothed  his  resent- 
ment by  more  gentle  measures.  How  he  felt  when  the 
mistake  was  discovered,  you  can  more  easily  conceive 
than  I  can  (^escribe.  His  sensations  were  not  of  the  most 
agreeable  kind,  you  will  readily  imagine.  Indeed,  sir,  1 
felt  a  degree  of  compassion  towards  the  man  under  that 
situation,  notwithstanding  his  conduct  had  not  been  of  the 
most  grateful  kind. 

A  number  of  instances,  similar  to  these,  have  occurred 
since  I  came  upon  the  stage  of  action.  You  will  readily 
imderstaud  what  consequences  would  naturally  proceed 
from  such  events.  I  found  the  world  ever  ready  to  give 
credit  to  such  reports.  When  m  aikind  had  once  formed 
an  unfavorable  opinion,  it  was  hard  to  eradicate  such  an 
idea,  even  by  the  most  pointed  evidence.* 

I  recollect  at  a  certain  time,  when  I  was  among  a  peo- 
ple who  did  not  know  my  real  name  and  character.  Among 
them  I  gained  a  credit  and  standing  of  the  pleasing  kind, 
long  before  my  real  name  became  known.  I  happened  at 
this  time  to  become  acquainted  with  a  certain  physician, 
who  came  from  a  part  of  the  country  contiguous  to  where 
I  had  formerly  lived.     In  the  course  of  our  acquaintance 

*  About  the  year  1808,  a  respectable  gentleman,  of  Boston,  ac- 
costed me  one  day,  saying,  "  Your  old  friend  Burroughs  has  got 
into  jail  again."  I  asked  him  where  ?  He  replied,  "  at  Johnstown, 
in  the  state  of  Xew-York."  I  told  him  he  must  labor  under  a  mis- 
take, for  Burroughs  was  certainly  then  in  Canada.  He  was  quite 
piqued  at  this,  and  answered  with  an  air  of  triumph,  "  Sir,  I  caruiot 
mistake  ;  for  lam  now  direct  from  Johnstown,  and  hiorw  that  tho 
noted  Stephen  Burroughs  lies  there  in  prison !  II'* 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  237 

lie  told  me,  "  that  he  was  acquainted  with  a  certain  char- 
acter by  the  name  of  Stephen  Burroughs,  who,  of  all  oth- 
ers, was  the  most  singular.  That  he  was  a  person  pos- 
sessed of  the  greatest  abilities  of  any  man  he  ever  knew." 
In  order  to  illustrate  more  fully  the  truth  of  his  observa- 
tions, he  related  many  anecdotes  concerning  me,  of  the 
humorous  kind,  which  I  had  never  heard  of  before.  "  How 
I  had  deceived  many  people  in  the  most  Surprising  man- 
ner, and  to  the  general  diversion  of  the  country.  How  I 
would  still  continue  to  deceive  them,  notwithstanding  all 
their  precautions  against  me.  How  I  would  steal  from 
the  rich  and  give  to  the  poor  ;  and  that  people  were  afraid 
to  prosecute  me,  because  l  would  ever  find  some  shift  to 
evade  the  business ;  and  would,  moreover,  always  steal 
again  from  the  person  who  had  attempted  the  prosecu- 
tion ;  however,'*  continued  the  Physician,  *'  I  could  ever 
discern  in  his  countenance  the  features  of  design.  There 
ever  was  the  appearance  of  deceit  in  his  looks ;  and  I 
should  have  known  him  to  be  a  rogue,  had  I  never  heard 
of  his  chai-acter.  1  believe,"  continued  he,  "  that  the 
countenance  of  a  man  is.a  strong  index  of  his  natural  dis- 
position ;  as  for  instance,  if  you  Avill  permit  me  to  make 
the  comparison,  without  conceiving  that  I  am  attempting 
to  flatter,  I  never  saw  a  more  striiiing  contrast,  than  be- 
tween the  designing,  deceitful  countenance  of  Burroughs, 
and  your  open,  frank,  und  candid  countenance.  I  have 
generally  found  men  wearing  such  characters  after  ac- 
quaintance as  tie  expression  of  their  countenances  had  in- 
dicated in  the  first  place." 

You  will  readily  conceive,  sir,  that  I  smiled  at  the  har- 
rangue  of  this  physiognomist.  He  remained  at  ease  in 
the  enjoynient  of  his  own  opinion  for  a  while ;  but  the 
bubble  soon  broke,  and  he  was  fuirly  exposed  to  public 
view,  without  the  thinnest  veil  for  a  covering.  My  real 
name  and  character  were  soon  developed  to  the  pubiic, 
and  all  his  knowledge  in  physiognomy  was  discredited  im- 
mediately ;  and  even  a  great  share  of  that  science  of  which 
he  was  really  master,  fled  at  the  same  time.  So  fickle  is 
the  multitude  ;  so  prone  to  run  from  one  extreme  into  the 
other.  This  simple  circujiistance  produced  the  fail  of  the 
poor  physician. 


238  MEMOIRS  OF 

Thus  we  see,  sir,  that  every  person,  be  his  situation  in 
life  what  it  may,  is  more  or  less  exposed  to  revolution, 
misfortune  and  disappointment.  Those  very  means  which 
we  make  use  of  to  answer  our  purposes  of  promotion  and 
exaltation  are  often  the  direct  and  only  causes  of  our  ca- 
lamity. We  all  wish  to  be  huppy,  and  all  use  such  means 
to  obtain  happiness  as  our  judgment  points  out.  From 
daily  experience  we  learn  how  incompetent  we  are,  to 
form  right  estimates  of  the  various  effects  which  will  fol- 
low the  measures  we  pursue  ;  therefore,  he  who  depends 
upon  the  uncertain  occurrences  of  events  for  his  happi- 
ness, builds  upon  a  very  slender  foundation,  and  will  most 
assuredly  fiiid  the  chances  run  against  him. 

**  For  these  T>ure  joys  the  world  can  never  know ; 

**  In  gentler  climes  theb^  silver  currents  flow. 

"  Oft  at  the  silent,  shadowy  close  of  day, 

**  When  the  hush'd  grove  has  sung  bis  parting  lay ; 

"  When  pensive  twilight  in  his  dusky  car, 

"Slowly  ascends  to  meet  the  evening  stai' ; 

"  Above,  below,  xrial  murmurs  swell, 

"  From  hanging  woods,  brov/n  heath,  and  bushy  dell ! 

"  A  thousand  nameless  rilio  that  shun  the  light, 

"  Stealing  soft  music  on  the  car  of  nig-ht. 

"  So  oft  the  finer  movements  of  the  soul, 

"  That  shun  the  shore  of  pleasure's  gay  control, 

"In  the  stiil  shades  of  calm  seclusion  rise, 

"  And  breathe  their  sv/eet  seraphic  harmonies  ! 

I  have  often  wished  that  my  memory  was  sufficient  to 
retain  a  recollection  of  ail  the  mistakes  which  I  have  ei- 
ther made  myself  or  have  seen  others  make,  during  tb« 
course  of  my  life.  From  such  a  circumstance,  I  think  I 
should  be  able  to  learn,  whether  any  general  cause  exist- 
ed in  nature,  which  produces  our  miscalculations,  or  whe- 
ther they  ylways  arise  from  a  general  weakness  of  the 
mind,  which  is  incurable.  From  what  observations  I  have 
been  able  to  make,  I  rather  think  the  evil  m^ay  in  some 
measure  be  remedied,  but  I  believe  not  entii^ly  cured. 

Should  we  lay  aright  foundation  for  happiness,  and  rear 
our  superstructure  upon  that  foundation,  v.'e  should  all 
find  an  indesciibable  advantage  arising  from  soch  a  pro- 
cedure.    I  have  once  before  hinted,  that  mankind  were 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  239 

generally  in  pursuit  of  riches  and  power,  in  order  to  ren- 
der themselves  happy  ;  that  this  pursuit  is  not  calculated 
to  contribute  to  our  happiness,  but  on  the  contrary,  to  mil- 
tate  against  it,  will  appear  evident,  when  we  take  a  candid 
view  of  the  subject. 

That  all  mankind  are  descended  from  one  common 
origin,  and  partake  of  the  nature  and  feelings  which  are 
common  to  each  other,  is  not  only  allowed  by  the  united 
voice  of  all,  but  is  likewise  demonstrated  by  the  united 
voice  of  nature,  perpetually  crying  in  the  bosom  of  every 
person.  Being  all  descended  from  the  same  origin,  we 
are  all  upon  the  footing  of  brethren  of  the  same  family, 
entitled  to  equal  privileges  and  immunities.  Being  mem- 
bers of  one  and  the  same  family,  we  have  a  common  in- 
terest in  the  prosperity  of  each  individual  which  composes 
this  family.  This  is  the  language  of  nature ;  however,  we 
may  have  our  minds  perverted  by  error  and  corruption  ; 
hence,  we  find  a  language  speaking  within  us,  that  we  can- 
not silence  ;  a  language  that  speaks  strongly  in  terms  of 
compassion  towards  those  in  imminent  distress.  Who 
can  stand  still  and  see  another  fall  into  the  fire,  without 
reaching  forth  the  hand  of  assistance  ?  Who  so  insensible 
to  the  pleasures  which  he  derives  from  socioty,  that  he  will 
retire  from  them  with  indifference  !  Are  not  all  equally 
dependent  on  each  other  ibr  the  comforts  which  are  en- 
joyed hi  life  ?  Has  not  our  great  parent  constituted  the  or- 
deuof  things  in  wisdom,  so  that  by  follo\ving  his  laws  we 
arrive  at  the  most  exalted  state  of  perfection  which  things 
in  this  life  admit  ? 

It  is  a  truth,  I  believe,  apparent  to  every  one,  that  all 
cannot  possess  power  and  riches  ;  nay,  the  greater  part 
must  ever  remain  without  these  acquirements  ;  therefore, 
he  who  strives  for  power  and  riches,  endeavors  to  take 
from  the  general  good  of  the  whole,  and  appropriate  to  his 
own  use.  He  endeavors  to  invert  the  order  of  nature,  by 
depriving  others  of  equal  privileges,  in  order  to  add  to  his 
own,  and  by  inverting  the  order  of  that  wisdom  which  has 
bountifully  provided  for  all  her  children,  misery  will  en- 
sue, confusion  and  disorder  will  run  through  the  body,  and 
many  inconveniences  will  be  felt  by  every  member  of  th6 


240  MEMOIRS  OF 

community.  On  the  contrary,  when  we  feel  the  affection 
of  brethren  towards  each  other ;  when  the  welfare  and 
prosperity  of  each  member  of  society  become,  in  a  mea- 
sure, our  own,  how  changed  the  scene !  how  happy  the 
prospect !  Our  griefs  become  lessened  by  communicating 
them  to  others ;  our  joys  are  increased  by  the  participa- 
tion of  our  friend  I  The  disgraceful  passions  of  hatred, 
envy,  malice  and  revenge  are  lost  for  want  of  support. 

When  we  set  out  in  life,  under  the  auspices  of  this  dis- 
position, and  pursue  such  a  course,  we  are  in  a  situation 
not  to  lose  our  enjoyment  by  every  puff  of  misfortune.  We 
are  inaccessible  to  the  malignant  passions,  the  great  disturb- 
ers of  human  repose.  In  this  line  of  conduct,  we  follow 
the  directions  of  nature,  and  answer  the  purpose  for  which 
we  were  designed.  Property,  even  riches,  acquired  by  in- 
dustry, (not  by  power)  are  of  use  to  contribute  to  our  hap- 
piness ;  by  rendering  us  capable  of  lessening  the  necessi- 
ties of  our  brethren  and  fellow  members  of  society. 

"  O  ye  blest  scenes  of  permanent  delight ! 

*•  Full  above  measure  !  lasting  beyond  all  bound^t 

"  A  perpetuity  of  bliss,  is  bliss. 

"  Could  you,  so  rich  in  rapture,  fear  an  ei)d, 

"  That  ghastly  thought  would  drink  up  all  your  joy, 

**  And  quit  in  Paradise  the  realms  of  light. 

"  Safe  are  you  lodged  above  these  rolling-  spheres ; 

"  The  baleful  influence  of  whose  giddy  dance 

"  Sheds  sad  vicissitudes  on  all  beneath.'* 

These  ideas,  to  me,  have  ever  appeared  as  matters  of 
high  importance ;  and  I  wish  to  see  some  abler  pen  go 
deeply  into  the  subject,  and  try  the  experiment  thorough- 
ly, to  see  whether  mankind  can  be  reasoned  into  their  own 
good.  Should  you,  sir,  devote  a  few  of  your  leisure  mo- 
ments to  such  an  object,  it  might  be  attended  with  very 
salutary  effects.  It  is  said,  "  that  mankind  are  daily  grow- 
ing in  useful  knowledge.'*  Perhaps  this  mr.y  be  true  in  a 
parti.  1  sense  ;  but  it  appears  to  me,  that  the  state  of  socie- 
ty in  the  di.ys  of  the  Spartan  and  Roman  governments,  was 
much  more  congenial  to  nature,  than  what  we  are  under 
at  present.  At  kast,  we  do  not  find  such  striking  in- 
stances of  affection  towards  the  public  welfare,  among  any 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  2^1 

Mi  ihe  modern  patriots,  as  what  was  instanced  in  the  con- 
duct of  Lycurg-us,  Regulus,  Cincinn.itus,  Sec.  Sec. 

I  huve  just  hinted  at  a  number  of  subjects  in  the  course 
of  this  narrative  which  may  appear  to  you  somewhat  mis- 
timed, considering  the  primary  object  was  barely  a  narra- 
tion of  facts.  Yes,  sir,  this  manuscript  will  ever  be  a  me- 
morandum of  those  subjects,  at  which  I  have  bareiy  hinted; 
and  as  your  attention  is  occupied  by  your  station  in  socie- 
ty, with  political  objects,  there  remains  a  bare  possibility 
of  such  a  memorandum's  being  of  service,  in  calling  some 
of  those  subjects  into  view  ;  as  this  country  is  happily  sit- 
uated, on  many  accounts,  to  pursue  political  inquiiies, 
without  the  embarrassments  attending  preconceived  opin- 
ions and  settled  systems ;  I  feel  the  more  desirous  that 
the  truth  of  these  observations  may  be  decided  by  experi- 
Tnent.  Should  they  be  productive  of  good  to  the  commu- 
nity, even  in  the  smallest  degree,  I  shall  feel  the  benefit 
of  an  essential  reward,  for  suggesting  those  things.  Should 
they,  on  the  contrary,  be  found  to  be  a  system  of  error,  I 
shall  place  them  to  the  account  of  the  many  mistakes  I 
have  made  through  life,  and  rest  satisfied  that  [  have  wish- 
ed to  have  them  productive  of  good. 

Whilst  I  am  absent,  you  will  have  sufficient  leisure  to 
peruse  the  manuscript  and  detect  the  errors  which  1  have 
been  guilty  of,  and  rest  assured  thi,t  I  shall  ever  receive  any 
suggestions  of  yours  upon  that  head  as  an  additioual  mark 
of  that  sincere  friendship  v/hich  you  have  ever  manifested. 

After  you  have  sufficiently  perused  the  present  narra- 
tive, if  you  should  wish  for  a  continuation,  I  will  attempt 
to  gratify  you  as  soon  as  my  situation  shall  again  become: 
so  settled  as  to  admit  of  writing. 

Entertainment  of  the  highest  nature,  generally  consists 
of  a  due  variety,  and  I  find  people  most  fond  of  buying 
books  of  entertainment,  where  novelty,  melancholy,  hu- 
mor, joy  and  triumph  are  interchai  geably  the  leading  fea- 
tures; hence,  Clarissa  Hc.rlovv  is  condemned  for  being  too 
gloomy.  Young's  Night  Tlioughts  fall  under  the  same 
censure.  The  critics  scy  there  is  a  want  of  a  varieiy  ;  that 
our  compassion  is  woumied,  but  never  gr  iiined  ;  tnat  cur 
disgust  is  excited  against  certain  cb.u'actervS;  that  the  rc- 

vv  ** 


^^^  MEMOIRS  OF 

v.arcis  of  vice  are  set  forth,  but  nothing  on  the  pleasing 
tide  ;  thut  virtue  is  not  rewarded  ;  that  our  compassion  is 
not  relieved,  and  that  of  course  we  feel  nothing  but  pain- 
ful sensations.  All  these  observations,  I  know,  will  ap- 
ply vvith  propriety  to  my  narrative.  I  should  have  been 
glad  to  have  interspersed  something  of  the  pleasing  kind 
among  the  relation  of  misfortunes ;  but  I  could  not  do  it 
consistently  with  the  character  of  one,  who  had  a  regard 
to  truth  in  his  history. 

Should  I  pursue  hereafter  the  history  of  the  remaining 
part  of  my  life,  you  may  not  be  more  pleased  than  what 
you  are  with  that  already  .given.  It  is  true,  that  I  passed 
through  many  scenes  entirely  new,  and  partaking  in  some 
measure  ol  the  humorous  kind  ;  but  that  uninterrupted 
course  of  severe  trials,  which  I  have  experienced  from,  the 
beginning,  never  forsook  me  until  I  arrived  in  this  hospi- 
table town,  where  I  have  met  wi:h  that  attention  and  kind- 
ness which  has  in  a  measure  been  a  counter-balance  to 
my  former  misfortunes. 

This  observation,  1  believe,  may  not  be  misplaced,  that 
v/henever  I  have  suffered  a  temporary  respite  from  the 
stroke  of  calamity,  my  feeUngs  have  been  more  alive  to 
the  enjoyment  of  my  situation.  The  comparison  has  ev- 
er been  striking,  both  to  my  view  and  feelings ;  and  of 
consequence,  all  the  force  of  happiness  had  its  operation 
upon  my  mind  without  any  impediment. 

Another  observation,  I  believe,  ought  to  have  a  place 
l.ere,  viz.  that  our  minds,  after  giving  way  to  the  strokes 
cf  calamity  a  v.'hile,  will  regain  their  vigor  and  pristine 
Liate  of  tranquillity,  under  the  most  trying  situation  ;  hence 
we  often  find  among  our  slaves  (I  blush  to  write  the  word) 
a  degree  of  tranquility  and  evenness  of  temper  which  is 
wanting  in  the  more  exalted  stations  of  life.  Visit  the 
piir.ons,  c^nd  you  will  find  many  in  those  situations  who  are 
desperate,  weari-i;^  in  their  countenances  a  content  of  in- 
sensibility produced  by  despair. 

i  recollect  when  I  was  in  the  dungeon  at  Northampton, 
and  every  prospect  of  relief  was  out  of  the  question,  that  I 
felt  a  degree  of  CAlm  or  su-len  content,  under  my  situation. 
I  r<;ally  thought  that -I    rejoiced  in  it,   '^becrai^e/*  said  I, 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  243 

"  the  end  wiil  soon  come  to  all  my  sufferings."  These 
were  my  sensa%)ns,  so  lonc^  us  the  prospect  of  better  days 
was  out  of  the  question  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  sound  of  re- 
lief had  reached  my  ears,  these  images  fled  like  the  "  base  - 
less  f:ibric  of  a  vision,  and  left  not  a  trace  behind." 

The  mind,  ^vhen  out  of  her  l)ias,  is  ever  struggling  for 
a  state  of  rest,  or  tranquillity,  and  according  to  the  strength 
she  possesses,  giins  that  situation  sooner  or  later.  There 
are  but  very  few  minds,  but  what  will  gain  that  situatioia 
ultimately,  let  the  strokes  of  adversity  be  ever  so  heavy. 
It  is  true,  that  some  are  overpowered ;  the  powers  of 
their  minds  are  broken,  and  they  either  become  delirious, 
or  else  sink  to  the  grave  under  the  pressure  of  misfortune. 
Of  all  situations  in  life,  that  is  the  most  dreadful,  which 
produces  death  or  delirium,  by  those  wounds  which  the 
mind  has  suffered.  You  iniimate,  sir,  that  you  v*ish  me 
to  give  a  particular  description  of  the  people  in  the  dif- 
ferent states,  their  manners,  their  local  peculiarities,  their 
particular  customs,  their  economy,  property,  industry,  ge- 
nius and  tempers  ;  likewise,  the  nature  of  the  soil  in  dif- 
ferent p.irts  cf  this  country,  tiic  price  that  Icind  bears,  nie 
quantity  and  kind  vrhich  it  produces,  the  different  meth- 
ods of  agriculture,  the  different  facility  of  obtaining  a  liv- 
ing, &c. 

You  require  of  me  a  task  which  I  do  not  think  myself 
competent  to  perform  with  accuracy;  however,  in  my 
next  attempt,  after  my  return,  I  v/iil  endeavor  to  gr-.tify 
your  request  in  as  great  a  measure  as  my  opportunity  fur- 
nished materials  for,  when  I  made  the  tour  of  the  United 
States. 

My  situation  v/as  such,  when  I  made  a  journey  through 
the  states  that  I  had  an  opportunity  of  observing  many 
things  which  other  travellers  havener ;  on  the  other  hand, 
travellers  in  general,  have  an  opportunity  of  observing  ma- 
ny things  in  the  course  of  their  travelling,  which  I  had 
not;  therefore,  sir,  if  you  can  gather  any  thing  from  my 
observations  on  those  subjects  whicn  you  have  reniiesied, 
either  profitab.c  or  amusing,  I  s-hull  be  highly  graiidcd 
"With  n\y  performance. 


^i-i  ME?^I0IR3  OF 

Baron  Trenk  observes,  that  he  oi-ice  travelled  m  his 
coach  throujrh  Poland  ;  that  he  thoiii- ht  l|i|^?ii3  acquainted 
with  the  people,  with  their  manners  and  genius.  But  af- 
terwards he  was  compelled  to  travel  through  this  country, 
in  a  most  ahjcct  situation,  and  under  the  necessity  of  beg- 
gin>;-  his  bre.xd ;  then  it  was  he  discovered  his  mistake. 
He  found  them  to  be  another,  and  very  different  people, 
from  what  he  had  apprehended  in  his  former  tour.  So 
true  it  is,  that  mankind  will  wear  the  veil  of  deception, 
generally,  in  all  countries. 

Afy  situation,  in  respect  to  property,  was  somewhat  sim- 
ilar to  the  Baroii's,  in  his  last  tour  through  Poland,  but  to 
the  hoiior  of  humcoiity  be  it  said,  tiiat  in  many  places,  I 
found  a  very  diiferent  reception  fro^i  what  the  Baron  met 
with.  Yet,  in  some  instances,  the  unfeeling  heart  wore 
a  prominent  appearance  in  the  character  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  country. 

In  different  states,  I  found  a  great  difference  in  the  man- 
ners and  morals  of  the  people  ;  in  their  refinement,  feel- 
ings and  sentiments ;  and  in  different  parts  of  the  same 
states,  I  found  this  variation  equally  great.  The  causes 
wnich  produce  this,  I  will  not  undertake  to  assign  ;  how- 
ever, shall  wish  to  hint  my  ideas  respecting  it  when  I  enter 
on  that  subject.  Could  the  causes  of  these  variations  be 
traced,  and  clearly  miderstood,  they  would  be  of  the  utmost 
service  to  society,  and  an  object  worthy  the  attention  of 
every  benevolent  mind. 

There  is  something  in  the  system  of  education  yet  un- 
discovered, which,  I  believe,  wculd  have  the  most  effec- 
tual operation  upon  the  world  of  mankind,  in  forming  their 
minds  in  such  a  manner  as  to  render  them  fitted  for  the 
enjoyment  of  society,  without  the  interruption  of  those  ir- 
regularities, which  overthrow  the  happiness  of  the  social 
state,  That  denomination  of  people  called  Quakers,  have 
brought  their  mode  of  education  to  the  greatest  state  of 
perfection  of  any  class  with  whom  I  have  been  acquainted. 
We  find  a  state  of  the  utmost  order  among  them,  and  this 
too,  founded  upon  the  most  simple  principles.  Their  man- 
ners and  conduct  savor  very  strongly  of  their  education. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  24J 

Haxin.^  never  been  educated  to  the  business  of  farming, 
it  ciuinot  be  expected  that  my  mind  was  sufficiently  en- 
liijhiened  upon  that  head,  to  make  such  inquiries  and  ob- 
servations as  would  tend  to  throw  light  upon  the  subject ; 
liiough  perhaps  this  might  aftbrd  an  inquiry  of  the  great- 
est utiiily  to  society,  were  it  taken  up  and  pursued  by  some 
one  able  to  performthe  task.  True  it  is,  that  many  dif- 
ferent methods  are  made  use  of  in  agriculture  ;  these 
methods  are  in  a  measure  local,  retained  by  those  ivho 
have  been  iu  the  custom  of  using  them,  and  parted  from 
wiih  reluctance  for  others,  not  so  common,  but  perh?.ps 
more  useful.  What  circumstances  of  that  kind  came  to 
my  viev/ and  observation,  I  will  mention.  Perhaps  you 
may  draw  some  ideas  from  them  which  may  be  new  and 
useful,  but  1  have  no  expectation  that  you  will  many. 

Relating  to  the  subject  of  land  ;  the  price  which  it  bears 
in  diiierent  pv;rts  of  the  state,  the  quality,  situation,  con- 
venience, &c.  which  it  possesses,  its  quality  and  kind  of 
produce,  the  nett  proceeds  which  it  averages  to  the  pos- 
sessor, in  different  places,  are  all  objects  which  have 
claimed  a  condderable  share  of  my  attention,  v.hen  oppor- 
tunity has  invested  me  wiih  a  chance  for  observation.  I 
have,  moreover,  hud  my  attention  much  occu-^ied  by  the 
different  degrees  of  industry  and  economy  which  have 
m.trked  the  characters  of  difierent  people. 

It  has  been  the  practice  of  the  greater  part  of  writers  to 
speak  in  general  terms,  respecting  the  subject  of  which 
they  are  treating  ;  this  mode  has  undoubtedly  its  advan- 
tages ;  but  perhaps  it  may  not  embrace  all  the  advantages 
which  a  more  mhiute  description  would  afford  ;  as  fur  ex- 
ample— should  a  wi  iter,  in  general  terms,  describe  the 
state  of  Georgia  as  a  fruidui  country,  abounding  v>ith  the 
conveniences  and  luxuries  of  life,  8^c.  the  reader  would  un- 
doubtedly obtain  an  idea  of  its  being  a  country  in  which 
property  might  be  acquired  with  a  degree  of  facility  ;  yet 
he  could  hardly  form  an  accurate  estimate  of  the  particu- 
lar occupation  or  business  v.hich  would  afford  the  most 
considerable  and  ready  profit.  Whether  a  capital  would 
be  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  prosecute  business,  and 
if  necessary,  how  lar^e  that  capital  njust  be.  He  could  not 


246  MEMOIRS  Ol'^ 

form  an  estimate  of  the  difFerence  in  the  profit,  which  iic 
^vould  realize  by  relinquishing  business  Ia  one  state  and 
removinc^  to  another  ;  as  for  instance,  from  New-Hamp- 
shire to  Georgia ;  and  of  consequence,  could  not  deter- 
mine with  propriety  upon  such  an  object,  should  it  be  pre- 
sented to  his  view.  On  the  contrary,  should  the  cost  of  an 
acreof  land,  in  the  state  of  nature,  be  shewn,  the  cost  to 
render  t'.iat  acre  productive,  the  profits  which  the  land 
v.'ould  afford,  both  in  New -Hampshire  and  Georgia,  then 
the  reader  would  be  possessed  with  data  by  which  he  might 
state  his  calculations,  and  form  an  accuraie  estimate  of  the 
object  of  acquiring  property,  both  in  Georgia  and  New- 
Hampshire,  and  leavn  the  advantages,  if  any,  that  one 
^vould  have  over  the  other,  and  how^  great  that  advantage 
would  be. 

Thus  likewise,  by  a  minute  description  of  the  price 
which  articles  of  importation  bear  in  the  two  states  ;  t)m. 
price  of  those  for  exportation  ;  the  quantily  and  quality  of 
those  articles  ;  the  demand  for  them  ;  the  facility  of  im- 
porting and  exporting  ;  the  price  of  living  ;  the  mode  of 
dealing,  kc.  would  give  a  sufficient  fund  of  information  for 
any  one  to  decide  upon  the  subject  of  merchandize  in  cith- 
er state  ;  so  likewise  for  mechanics,  and  eveiy  other  em- 
ployment which  admits  of  profit. 

This  is  a  system  of  writing  which  I  do  not  recollect  ever 
to  have  seen  ;  and  I  have  somewhat  wondered  at  the  cir- 
cumstance. There  are  advantages  to  be  derived  from 
such  a  method,  sufficiently  great  to  claim  the  attention  of 
the  literary  world  ;  and  I  believe  such  a  method  VTould  af- 
ford more  useful  instruction  to  the  philosopher,  the  poli- 
llcinn,  the  farmer,  the  mechanic,  and  the  merchant,  than 
any  other  which  has  been  made  use  of.  This  method 
draws  the  picture  of  men  and  manners  to  the  life,  and  gives 
every  m.  n  ..n  opportunity  of  viewing,  and  making  his  own 
reflections  upon  it. 

Vv'hen  we  arc,  in  this  manner,  made  acqu.iinted  with 
count!  ies,  men,  manners,  customs,  he  in  the  m.orc  minute 
departments,  v/e  have  data  to  form  our  own  opinions  relat- 
ing to  the  various  causes  which  produce  the  different  ef- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  247 

fects  upon  society,  and  are  not  dependent  on  others  for  an 
opinion  respecting  them. 

When  I  travelled  through  the  states,  my  situation  and 
circumstances  did  not  admit  that  extensive  opportunity  for 
information  and  observation  upon  these  subjects  which  my 
propensity  led  me  to  desire.  However,  what  observations 
I  v^^as  in  a  capacity  to  make,  I  paid  the  strictest  attention 
to  form,  with  as  much  accuracy  as  my  judgment  would 
allow.  I  did  not  settle  down  upon  an  opinion  until  I  had 
satisfactory  evidence  of  the  just  principle  upon  which  it 
was  founded.  Should  I  ever  again  travel  through  the 
states,  I  should  devote  my  attention  greatly  to  such  an  ob- 
ject ;  and  endeavor,  upon  the  most  thorough  plan,  to  in- 
vestigate all  the  little  secret  springs  which  set  the  wheels 
cf  society  in  motion. 

Should  the  population  and  emigrations  into  these  states 
be  as  great  for  one  hundred  years  to  come  as  they  have 
been  for  the  same  time  past,  what  an  amazing  multitude 
must  this  continent  contain  !  Nature  seems  to  be  swiftly 
hastening  forward  her  events  to  fill  up  the  measure  of  time  ! 

Here  is  a  vast  field  for  the  philosophic  eye  to  view. 
Perhaps  there  may  be  more  effected  for  the  good  of  soci- 
ety, during  the  continuation  of  the  American  settlements, 
improvements,  inventions  and  experiments,  than  ever  took 
place  at  any  other,  or  perhaps  at  every  period,  since  time 
began.  The  philanthropist  will  be  induced  to  labor  with 
redoubled  exertion  in  this  field,  owing  to  the  animating 
prospect  of  success  which  he  will  have  in  view,  as  a  re- 
ward for  his  labor.  • 

Did  the  philosopher  have  nothing  more  in  view,  than 
his  own  particular  benefit,  this  .would  be  a  sufficient  mo- 
tive for  him  to  be  incessant  in  his  researches  after  that 
knowledge  and  improvement,  which  would  tend  to  the 
general  good ;  there  is  a  general  connection  Avhich  does, 
and  must  exist  in  the  world  :  and  no  man  discovers  and 
communicates  useful  knowledge  to  mankind,  but  he  him- 
self will  reap  the  advantage." 

;^o  discovery,  in  its  crude  state,  but  what  adm.its  of  im- 
provement. When  it  is  flung  open  to  the  world,  eveiy 
person  has  the  opportunity  of  amending,  improving,  and 


248^  MEMOIRS  OF,  &c. 

altering,  as  judgment  and  experiment  will  dictate,  until  it 
is  brought  to  perfeclion  ;  and  then  every  member  of  soci- 
ety enjoys  the  privilege  which  such  improvements  pro- 
duce. 

A  stronger  motive  than  all  these  considerations. has  its 
influence  upon  the  mind  of  the  real  philosopher.  To 
view  himself  as  able  to  promote  the  happiness  of  liis  bre- 
thren, the  common  stock  of  the  human  race ;  to  see  him- 
self contributing  to  increase  their  joy,  comfort  and  pros- 
perity ;  to  behold  the  various  circles  of  society  w^feng 
countenances  vacant  of  care  and  remorse  ;  to  see  the  ten- 
der connexions  among  more  intimate  degrees  of  consan- 
guinity indulged  in  their  utmost  latitude,  without  the  cloud 
of  care  to  intervene,  or  the  corroding  sting  of  disappoint- 
ment I  This  is  a  luxury  of  enjoyment,  a  feast  of  pleasure, 
beyond  the  utmost  conception  of  the  voluptuous  epicure  I 
And  the  more  deeply  we  dip  into  these  enjoyments,  the 
keener  is  our  appetite  for  their  relish,  i  hese  bring  no 
alloy,  no  pain,  no  disease.  No  evil  attends  their  indul- 
gence, no  repentance  grows  from  their  use. 

And  now,  sir,  permit  me  to  address  this  wish  to  you  and 
family — that  the  perfection  of  all  these  grateful  sensations 
may  be  enjoyed  by  you  in  their  fullest  measure.  That  as 
your  family  increases,  their  opening  minds  may  drink  deep 
of  this  principle,  and  enjoy  the  effects  so  long  as  they  con- 
tinue to  occupy  a  station  upon  the  stage  of  mutual  depend- 
ence. That  the  most  striking  examples  of  filial,  parental, 
counubial,  and  fraternal  affection  may  pervade  the  whole 
body  ;  and  wheri  such  a  series  of  time  has  rolled  away,  as 
to  admit  you  among  the  higher  order  of  beings,  in  that 
state  where  we  are  but  little  acquainted,  may  the  memo- 
ry of  you  and  family  be  called  into  view  with  the  most 
grateful  emotions,  and  pleasing  sensations.  I  remain, 
dear  sir,  with  sentiments  of  the  warmest  esteem,  your 
much  obliged,  humble  servant, 

STEPHEN  BURROUGHS, 

J.  G.  Esq. 

END    OF    VOL.    I. 


MEMOIRS 


OF 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 


TO  WHICH,  AliE  ADDED, 

NOTES, 

APPENBIX-. 


l^Tien  such  ^ad  scenes  the  bosom  pain. 
What  eye  from  weeping-  can  refrain. 


VOL.11. 

COPY    RIGHT    SECURE©. 

t 

ALBANY: 
rLT5USIlED  BY  B.  D.  PACKARD,  No.  51  STATE-SfTREET 

R.  PACKARD,    PRINTER. 

181L 


MEMOIRS 

OF 

STEPHEN  BURROUGHS 

CHAP.  I. 

**  Thus  the  lorn  wretch,  by  ignis  fatuus  led. 
Pursues  the  g-leam  which  charms  his  lonely  way  : 
Nor,  till  destruction  whelms  his  hapless  head. 
Suspects  the  dangers  of  the  treacherous  ray." 

JL  WAS  determined,  when  I  left  Worcester,  to  quit 
the  country  in  such  a  manner  as  to  leave  no  traces  of 
my  route  behind.  I  intended  to  go  to  Long-Island,  in 
^le  State  of  New-York,  and  there  reside,  until  I  could 
look  about  me  a  little ;  see  what  was  to  be  done  ;  and 
where  I  could  procure  a  place  to  move  my  family. 

All  the  day,  following  my  escape  from  confinement, 
I  lay  in  the  woods,  unknown  to  any  person  whatever. 
At  the  close  of  the  day,  I  repaired  to  a  friend,  who 
carried  me  about  ten  miles  on  my  way;  and,  at  parting, 
gave  me  directions  how  to  pursue  my  route  to  the  best 
advantage  ;  informing  me  where  to  take  a  road,  not  so 
much  frequented,  but  much  nearer  than  the  main  road. 

At  this  time  J  had  with  me  fourteen  dollars  in  cash, 
one  shirt,  a  pair  of  breeches,  a  pair  of  stockings,  boots, 
waistcoat,  and  gown  ;  all  which  I  had  on.  This  com- 
prised the  whole  of  my  wardrobe,  and  all  the  property 
I  had  about  me.  - 

Not   long  after  leaving  my  friend,  I   turned   into   a 
road,  which  I  supposed  was  the  one  pointed  out,  and. 
pursued  it  with  diligence,  until  I  came  to  a  pair  of  bars 
The  night,  by  this  time,  became  extremely  dark  j  the 


'^       '  MEMOIRS  OF  * 

sky  being  overcast  with  thick  clouds,  and  the  rain  be- 
ginning to  pour  down  in  torrents.  I  did  not  suspect  my 
being  in  the  wrong  road  ;  but  found  the  ^yay  much  less 
frequented  than  I  had  expected,  from  the  direction  of 
my  friend.  I  concluded,  likewise,  that  I  should  meet 
with  more  difficulty  in  following  the  foot-path,  than  I; 
had  contemplated  before  the  night  had  become  so  ex- 
tremely dark.  I  got  over  the  bars,^  however,  and  pur- 
sued my  course,  until  I  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  a 
swamp,  composed  of  brakes,  mire,  and  rocks,  without 
any  path  to  direct  me,  or  knowing  what  way  to  extri- 
cate myself  I  tried  to  find  the  way  out  of  this  swamp 
by  measuring  back  my  fc/mier  couvsc.  After  repeated 
trials,  I  found  it  impossible.  The  more  I  attempted  to 
find  the  way  back,,  tl>e  deeper  I  found  myself  involved 
in  difficulty.  Sometimes  I  would  plunge  to  my  knees 
in  mud;  I  would  then  ^cautiously  seek  for  a  rock,  and 
erawl  out  of  my  filthy  predicament,  by  its  friendly  aid  : 
and  yet,  by  taking  one  incautious  step,  I  was  plunged 
headlong  into  the  mire.  With  this  difficulty  I  strug- 
gled about  four  hours,  when  I  once  more  found  myself, 
on  diy  ground. 

.  How  much  does  our  happiness  depend  on  our  reason- 
ing wiih  propriety  upon  the  various  subjects  which  of- 
fer themselves-to  our  view  I  When  I  had  again  got  my 
foot  upon  dry  ground,  I  felt  exceedingly  happy,  notwith- 
standing I  was  .wandering  alone  through  this  di'cary 
night,  drenched  with  rain  and  covered  with  mud  ;  not- 
withstanding I  had  torn  one  of  my  boots  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  let  my  foot  to  the  ground  at  every  step  ;  and 
had,  likewise,  torn  my  foot  almost  as  bad  as  my  boot. — 
Thus  we  may  enjoy  happiness  in  the  most  forlorn  situa^ 
tion. 

I  sought  diligently  for  a  path,  or  some  directory  by 
which  I  might  again  find  the  road.  I  soon  found  my- 
self in  a  foot-path,  which  I  pursued  until  I  was  led  into 
a  large  frequented  road.  I  judi^ed  that,  by  this  time,  I 
had  travelled  between  twenty  and  thirty  miles,  since  I  had 
parted  from  my  friend.  I  expected  1  was  in  the  state  of 
Connecticut,  and  fiir  enough  from  the  place  of  my  ac- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  5 

quaintance,  to  travel  through  the  day  without  bein^ 
known.  I  passed  by  a  large  house  about  the  breaking 
of  day,  which  appeared  to  be  a  place  familiar  to  my  eye  ; 
but  could  not  recollect  myself  so  as  to  determine  where 
I  was.  I  passed  on  a  little  further  ;  and,  what  do  you 
think,  Sir,  was  my  astonishment,  when  I  discovered 
myself  in  Oxford,  (a  town  adjoining  to  Worcester)  walk- 
ing, with  hasty  strides,  back  to  prison  ;  being  now  four 
miles  nearer  Worcester,  than  I  was  the  preceding  eve- 
ning, when  my  friend  left  me. 

I  immediately  turned  my  course,  and  left  the  main 
road,  and  made  my  way  towards  Douglass-woods, (a  wild, 
barren  forest.)  As  the  rain  yet  continued,  without  in- 
termission, and  the  morning,  of  consequence,  was  dark, 
I  believe  I  was  not  seen  by  any  person.  I  ran,  with  the 
utmos^speed,  about  an  hour  and  a  half;  and  concluded, 
that,  by  this  time,  I  had  nearly  arrived  into  the  State  of 
Rhode-Island;  when,  again,  to  my  utter  astonishment,  I 
was  about  re-entering  the  great  road  which  led  back  to 
Worcester,  near  where  I  had  left  it,  "What,"  said  I 
to  myself,  "  am  I  mad  ?  Am""I  divested  of  every  ray  of- 
reason  ?  Am  I  designed  for  destruction,  and  led  to  it 
by  infatuation  :"  "The  truth  is,  I  was  so  bewildered  by 
my  wanderings  through  the  night  that  I  had  lost  all  a- 
bility  to  calculate  respecting  the  points  of  the  compass. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  only  way  1  had  to  pur- 
sue, was  to  take  the  most  open  and  direct  road  to  Doug- 
lass Meeting-House.  It  was  now  about  10  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  The  rain  had  ceased,  and  the  sun  broke 
out  from  the  clouds,  and  shone  very  warm,  it  being  no\r 
the  month  of  June.  Having  been  without  any  refresh- 
ment through  the  night  preceding,  after  enduring,  such 
a  course  of  fatigue,  you  will  not  wonder  at  my  feeling 
faint  and  weary,  by  this  time,  for  the  want  of  food. 

After  I  had  travelled  some  distance  in  the  town  of 
Douglass,!  intended  to  procure  some  refreshment.  This 
I  calculated  to  obtain  at  a  private  house,  considering  I 
should  be  more  exposed  to  be-  seen  and  known  by  the 
variety  of  company  that  might  be  at  a  Uvern.  I  there- 
fore called  sit  a  small,  snug  house  by  the  way  side, 
a2 


6  MEMOIRS  OP 

No  sooner  had  I  entered  this  House,  than  the  man, 
starting  up,  exclaimed,  "  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Bur- 
roughs ?"  This  salutation  very  much  disconcerted  my 
feelings ;  which  being  perceived  by  the  man,  he  an- 
swered, "  that  I  might  make  myself  perfectly  easy  ; 
that  no  person  should  molest  me  while  I  tarried  at  his 
house  ;  that  I  might  remain  there  as  long  as  I  desired." 
And  without  asking  whether  I  was  hungry,  ordered  his 
wife  to  get  some  victuals  ready  immediately.  I  was 
apprehensive  that  all  this  seeming  kindness  was  only 
an  intended  delusion,  with  an  expectation  of  procuring 
help  to  carry  me  back  to  Worcester;  and  more  espe- 
cially after  he  told  me  he  was  going  on  my  way  about 
four  miles.  My  suspicion  was  so  strong  against  him 
that  I  intended,  the  first  opportunity,  to  pretend  an  oc- 
casion to  step  into  the  bushes,  and  by  this  means,  make 
my  escape. 

After  I  had  refreshed  myself  we  set  off  together  on 
our  way.  Finding  the  country  entirely  open  threugh 
^hich we  passed,  I  could  not  put  my^  intended  flight  in- 
to execution  ;  not  finding  any  bushes  by-the  way.  Af- 
ter we  had  travelled  about  two  miles,  we  were  met  by- 
two  men,  one  of  whom  I  knew,  being  on  the  Grand  Ju- 
ry, at  Worcester,  at  the  time  of  my  trial  ;  the  other  was 
a  Justice  of  the  Peace,  to  whom  my  fellow-traveller  in- 
troduced me,  expressing  his  satisfaction,  at  the  same 
time,  that  I  had  got  out  of  "  their  damn'd  clutches.** — 
The  Justice  and  Juror  gave  me  their  hands  ;  hoped  it 
was  for  the  best  that  I  was  at  liberty  ;  wished  I  might 
meet  with  kinder  treatment ;  and  so  left  us.  At  this 
moment  I  felt  a  mountain's  weight  removed  from  my 
mind.  I  was  satisfied  that  my  fellow-traveller  me^nt 
me  no  injury.  I  felt,  likewise,  that  people  generally 
viewed-my  treatment  at  Worcester  as  I  did  myself. 

We  travelled  together  until  my  fellow  traveller  arri- 
ved at  the  place  of  his  destination.  We  ^here  parted 
with  expressions  and  feelings  of  reciprocal  frieadship. 

After  I  had  left  this  man,  and  had  taken  a  view  of  the 
incidents  of  the  day,  I  began  lo  think  that  people  were 
generally  informed  into  the  nature  and  particulars  of  my 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS^  / 

trial ;  and  from  that  inforniation  had  conceited  a  dis- 
gust towards  the  Court,  and  a  desire  that  I- might  elude, 
J  as  much  as  possible,  the  effects  of  the  sentence  against 
me.  Under  this  idea,  I  determined  to  travel  openly, 
and  to  wear  no  disguise  on  my  journey  to  Long-Isl- 
and. 

On  the  evening  of  this  day,  I  arrived  at  CHoiicester,  a 
town  in  the  state  of  Rhode-Island,  and  put  up  at  the  house 
of  one  Owen.  Immediately  after,  I  went  into  a  shoe- 
maker's shop,  hard  Sy,  in  order  to  get  my  boots  mended. 

The  shoe-maker  gave  me  a  pair  of  slippers  to  wear 
while  my  boots  were  mending,  which  were  so  small  that 
I  could  scarcely  put  my  toes  into  them. 

When  I  had  returned  into  tlfe  house,  the  landlord, 
who  was  aii  impertinent  fellow,  having  his  curiosity  ex- 
cited by  my  looks,  dress,  &c.  asked  me  from  whence  I 
came  ;  who  I  was.  Sec.  In  the  simplicity  of  my  heart  I 
told  him  all  the  circumstances  relating  to  myself.  Ow- 
en observed  that  many  people  had  accused  him  of  af- 
fording shelter  to  the  insurgents'  at  the  time  of  Shays* 
rebellion  ;  but  that  he  would  be  damned  if  they  brought 
any  such  accusations  against  him  again.  After  he  had 
made  these  observations,  he  went  out,  and  in  about  half 
an  hour,  returned  with  a  Constable  and  Justice  of  the 
Peace.  I  was  again  interrogated  by  them  respecting 
the  circumstances  of  my  leaving  Worcester,  Sec. :  to  all 
■  which  I  gave  a  simple  detail.  So  strongly  was  I  infatu- 
ated. "      * 

After  I  had  ended  my  narration,  Owen,  the  Justice 
and  Constable  retired  into  another  room,  to  consult 
what  measures  to  take.  There  was  a  traveller  at  this 
time,  who  had  put  up  at  this  house,  and  \yas  in  the  room 
where  the  consultation  was  held.  He  soon  came  into 
the  room  where  I  was  sitting,  and  beckoned  me  out. 
I  immediately  obeyed  his  motion,  and  received  informa- 
tion that  a  plan  was  in  agitation  to  carry  me  back  to 
Worcester.  This  hint  was  sufficient.  I  was  roused 
ffom  my  stupidity  ;  and  immediately  left  the  house  of 
my  good  landlord  Owen.  My  boots  were  in  the  shoe- 
maker's shop.    I  had  nothing  I  could  wear  on  my  feet. 


6  MEMOIRS  OF  ♦ 

I  could  not  travel  in  my  slippers.      I  must  walk   bare- 
footed. 

Under  these  embarrassments,  and  by  no  means  so  re- 
freshed by  rest  as  to  feel  vigorous  for  another  night*s 
travel,  I  again  began  my  pedestrian  exercise.  Soon  af- 
ter I  had  set  out  on  my  night's  walk,  the  rain  began  a- 
gain  to  descend  in  torrents,  which  continued  through 
the  whole  night.  I  found  the  pain  from  walking  excru- 
ciating. My  feet  had  been  miserably  torn  the  night  be- 
fore. The  gravel  over  which  I  had  to  v^lk,  was  sharp  ; 
and  the  darkness  of  the  night  prevented  my  seeing  the 
stones  and  rubbish  against  which  I  perpetually  dashed 
my  feet. 

Notwithstanding  the  pains  which  I  suffered,  the  soli- 
tary situation  in  which  I  spent  the  night  brought  the  va- 
rious scenes  into  view,  through  which  I  had  passed  in 
such  a  disagreeable  succession.  The  events  of  my  life 
I  found  still  chequered  with  the  most  surprising  varie- 
ty. One  moment  lifted  on  the  pinnacle  of  hope,  and  the 
next,  dashed  into  the  vale  of  despondency. 

I  have  (said  I)  passed  through  a  series  of  trials  at 
Worcester,  the  parallel  to  which  is  not  to  be  found  in 
the  history  of  man.  To  be  indicted  for  the  attempt  to 
ravish,  and  those  bills  predicated  upon  suc4i  circumstan- 
ces as  were  exhibited  in  testimony,  is  to  me  altogether 
unaccountable.  What  is  still  more  unaccountable  is, 
the  determination,  anxiety,  and  pains  of  two  of  the 
Judges  to  have  the  verdicts  returned  against  me  ;  and 
even  to  terrify  any  who  should  look  towards  me  with 
an  eye  of  compassion.  But  what  winds  up  the  scene  to 
the  great  climax  of  astonishment  is,  that  a  Jury  should 
be  so  far  wrought  upon  by  such  measures  as  to  return  a 
verdict  against  me. 

As  though  one  thunderbolt  was  not  sufficient  to  fall 
upon  my  devoted  head,  I  was  again  brought  forward  to 
answer  to  two  new  bills  of  indictment,  accusing  me  of 
the  samc.facts,  but  calling  them  by  another  name,  (viz.) 
open  lewdness.  You,  Sir,  will  be  more  able  to  judge 
of  the  propriety  and  legality  of  this  transaction  than  I. 
This  is  a  crime  but  little  known  in  our  country.    I  do 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  9 

not  recollect  of  ever  hearing  of  a  trial  for  such  an  of- 
fence, before  I  was  called  to  answer  to  a  charge  of  that 
nature.  I  iiad  then  blit  a  moment's  time  for  consider- 
ation ;  but  am  more  confirmed,  upon  further  investiga- 
tion, of  the  propriety  of  my  first  ideas  upon  the  subject^ 
(viz.)  that  it^iust  be  an  open  transaction,  in  order  to 
come  within  the  nature  of  the  crime.  I  am  sensible 
the  nature  of  this  crime  has  ever  been,  in  a  measure, 
left  indefinite.  All  I  recolject  ever  having  seen  upon 
the  subject,  by  any  of  the  writers  on  criminal  law,  was 
in  Hale's  Pleas  of  the  Crown.  He  explains  the  crime 
by  saying,  that  it  is  such  conduct  as  "  those  were  guilty 
of,  who  shewed  themselves  naked,  in  the  balcony,  on 
the  king's  birth-day  ;"  or  to  that  purpose.  This,  I  think, 
is  suffici*ent  to  shew,  that  ofienncss  is  an  essential  part 
to  constitute  the  crime  ;  and  that  unless  the  lewdness 
be  open,  it  cannot  be  punishable  by  law.  One  circum- 
stance is  worth  noticing  by  the  way,  viz.  Daniel  ^acoii 
and  wife  testified,  under  solemnity,  at  the  court  of  in- 
quest, that  on  a  particular  night,  (they  were  very  posi- 
tive as  to  the  particular  night)  their  daughter  was  out 
and  not  to  be  found  ;  a  number  of  months-  afterwards 
she  told  that  she  was  with  me  at  that  time  ;  though 
when  inquiry  wat  first  made,  she  gave  a  very  different 
reason  for  her  being  absent,  too  indelicate  to  find  a 
place  in  this  narrative:  As  this  was -somewhat  of  st 
memorable  night,  on  account  of  a  number  of  circum- 
stances, I  recollected  my  being  in  company  with  a  gen- 
tleman of  undoubted  veracity  the  whole  time  in  which 
it  was  possible  for  me  to  be  with  the  witness,  according 
to  her  testimony.  I  produced  this  gentleman,  who  made 
oath  to  this  fact,  before  the  Ju'stice  by  whom  I  was  com- 
mitted; When  the  trial  came  on  at  Worcester,  before 
the  Siipreme  Court,  the  fatUer,  mother,  and  daughter, 
had  then  very  ingeniously  forgotten  on  what  particular 
night  the  transaction  took  place  ;  but  only  remembered 
it  was  sometime  in  the  month  of  June.  I  believe.  Sir, 
you  will  understand,  by  this  time,  there  was  not  the 
greatest  partiality  in  the  Court,  in  my  favour  ;  and  that 
I  did  not  stand  any  very  extpaordinarf  chance  for  sin> 


10  MEMOIRS  OF 

pie  justice  upon  this  business.  After  the  trial  wa» 
ended  on  the  part  of  the  Jury,  it  appeared  that  the 
sentence  was  as  extraordinary  as  the  trial.  Happy 
for  the  world  that  the  heart  is  not  always  callous  to  the 
feelings  of  justice  or  compassion  !  How  different  was 
the  treatment  I  received  from  my  kind  entertainer  at 
Douglass  ?  Can  the  mind,  fraught  with  compassion, 
look  upon  his  conduct  but  with  the  highest  veneration  ? 
We  see  in  him,  the  operation  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
unsophisticated  by  the  pomp  of  dignity,  and  the  vio- 
lence of  passion.  He  saw  no  fatal  consequences  of  the 
ruin  of  society,  of  the  destruction  of  morals,  and  of 
the  overthrow  of  virtue,  by  my  escape.  He  wished 
me  happy.  He  wished  me  liberated  from  misery.  Ke 
saw  no  danger  arising  to  himself,  as  a  member  of  soci- 
ety, or  to  any  other,  from  my  obtaining  this.  He  acted 
accordingly.  How  contrary  to  this  was  the  conduct  of 
Owen  !  Because  he  had  borne  an  imputation  of  blame, 
he  would  render  me  back^gain  to  misery ;  not  because 
justice  required,  or  the  laws  of  humanity  called  for  my 
apprehension  ;  but  because  he  should  suffer  additional 
blame  in  entertaining  mc  at  his  house,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. Where  will  this  principle  lead,  but  to 
the  commission  of  every  species  of  wickedness  ?  When 
we  make  our  convenicncy  a  rule  to  infringe  upon  our 
neighbour's  privileges,  we  shall  not  fail  to  rob  him  of 
his  property,  health,  and  life,  when  our  conveniency 
shall  call  for  such  a  transaction. 

After  travelling  UHtil  near  day,  I  turned  off  from  the 
main  road,  and  toDk  a  path  \yhick  ultimately  led  into  a 
large  open  field.  In  the  midst  of  the  field  I  found  the 
bottom  of  an  old  stack  of  hay,  and  a  yard^  of  crooked 
fence  around  it.  I  took  a  large  flake  of  hay,  and  laid 
it  on  some  rails  which  I  had  fixed  for  that  purpose,  and 
creeped  under  it,  to  shelter  myself,  in  some  small 
measure^  from  the  rain.  I  was,  by  this  time,  so  far 
exhausted  by  the  fatigue  of  travelling,  and  the  pain  of 
my  feet,  that  I  could  not  proceed  any  further ;  there- 
fore I  crawled  under  this  flimsy  shelter,  with  more 
pleasure  tlian  many  ftcl  in  retiring  to  a  bed  of  down, 


STEPHfeN  BURROUGHS.  U 

hung  with  rich  tapestry,  and  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  en- 
chanting sound  of  music.  I  had  scarcely  laid  my  head 
to  the  ground,  before  I  was  fast  locked  in  the  leaden 
arms  of  sleep.  All  things  were  lost  to  my  knowledge, 
until  about  10  o'clock,  when  I  was  aroused  f»om  my 
profound  slumbers,  by  the  repeated  cries  of  men. 
When  I  first  awoke,  I  expected  that  Owen  and  his  gang 
had  made  pursuit  after,  and  had  overtaken  me.  But 
how  it  was  possible  for  them  to  trace  my  route  to  this 
place,  was  wholly  a  mystery.  I  was  not  suffered,  how- 
ever, very  long,  to  contemplate  on  this  subject.  I  was 
ordered  to  turn  out.  There  were  three  men  around  me. 
Owen  was  not  one  of  them.  I  found  that  I  had  travel- 
led twenty  miles  since  I  left  him ;  and  therefore  con- 
cluded myself  out  of  danger  from  him,  and  from  being 
"known  by  the  men  who  Avere  with  me.  I  was  deter- 
mined not  to  run  into  the  same  error  heile  as  I  had  at 
Gloucester,  by  relating  my  name,  situation.  See.  I 
demanded  of  the  men  what  they  wanted  of  me  ?  They 
soon  informed  me,  that  their  design  was  to  carry  me  to 
Providence,  supposing  me  to  be  an  accomplice  with 
George  Irish,  who  nad  been  committed  to  Providence 
jail,  on  a  suspicion  of  counterfeiting  bank  bills.  A  num- 
ber of  his  accomplices  had  made  their  escape,  for  the 
apprehension  of  whom  a  reward  was  offered.  Being 
found  by  these  men,  in  such  a  situation,  they  suspected 
I  was  one  who  had  fled  on  the  before  mentioned  account. 
I  endeavored  to  convince  them  that  so  far  from  being 
an  accomplice  with  George  Irish,  I  had  never  seen  him. 
I  believe  they  were  pretty  thoroughly  convinced  of  their 
mistake ;  but  still  supposed  that  some  extraordinary 
cause  had  brought  me  to  this  place  ;  and  therefore  talk- 
ed of  carrying  me  to  Providence.  I  was  sensible  I 
should  be  recognized  In  that  town;  and  of  course, 
should  be  exposed  to  the  danger  of  being  carried  back 
from  thence  to  Worcester.  The  men  perceived  that  I 
was  unwilling  to  be  carried  to  Proyidence  ;  and  being 
desirous  to  make  me  turn  to  some  account,  began  to  ban- 
ter me  upon  the  price  I  would  give  for  my  liberation.  I 
cxpostukted  with  them  upon  the  cruelty  of  exacting 


12  MEMOmS  OF 

money  for  my  liberation  ;  but  my  expostulations  were 
in  vain.  I  found  they  were  bent  upon  carrying  me  to 
Providence  unless  I  would  buy  them  off.  After  much 
altercation  upon  the  subject,  they  consented  to  release 
me  foi%eleven  dollars.  I  gave  them  tlve  money  and  they 
went  off. 

After  I  had  got  rid  of  my  disagreeable  companions,  I 
tigain  walked  on  as  well  as  the  soreness  of  my  feet  would 
allow.  I  had  travelled  about  a  mile,  when  I  began  to 
feel'extremely  faint  for  the  want  of  food.  I  therefore 
determined  to  go  into  the  first  house,  and  obtain  some 
jefreshment,  if  possible.  I  accordingly  entered  a  house, 
hard  by  .the  way  side,  and  asked  the  woman  of  the  house, 
if  she  \/ould  pei  init  me  to  take  a  dinner  with  her.  My 
appearance,  my  lameness.  Sec.  had  a  strong  effect  upon 
her  feelings.  She  gave  me  a  pleasant  dinner^  and  said 
many  thingfe  to  sooth  and  comfort  me.  She  wanted  to 
know  nr^re  particulars  relating  to  my  circumstances 
than  I  wished  to  communicate.  ^  After  I  had  rested  my- 
self awhile,  and  was  about  making  ready  to  compensate 
the  good  woman^for  her  kindness  and  refreshment,  she 
desired  me  to  sit  down  tor  a  mmutc  She  then  went 
into  another  room,  and  soon  returned  wiili  a  pair  of  thin 
shoes,  belonging  to  her  husband,  tolerably  good,  and 
presented  them  to  me.  I  offered  to  compensate  her  for 
the  shoes  and  dinner ;  but  she  refused  tcf  receive  any 
thing,  alleging  that,  "  thy  necessities  are  greater  than 
mine ;  and  when  thou  seest  one  in  distress,  an^d  hast  it 
in. thy  power  to  relieve  him,  remember  that  be  is  thy 
^brother.'* 

I  was  struck  with  astonishment  at  the  nobleness,  com- 
bined with  simplicity,  of  this  woman's  sentimerfts.  Did 
mankind  view  the  relation  they  stand  in  to  tach  other 
with  these  sentiments  of  benevolence,  and  act  according- 
ly, how  changed  would  be  the  miseries  of  life,  to  scenes 
of  the  most  pleasing  contemplation  ?  There,  said  I,  is  re- 
ligion, manifested  in  a  clearer  manner,  than  what  Ridg-^ 
ley  has  displayed  in  his  whole  body  of  Divinity.  There 
is  virtue  ;  there  is  benevolence  ;  and  finally  there  is 
every  thing  which  ennobles  the  human,  character. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  1> 

After  I  hcd  left  this  house,  I  travelled  on  again ;  but  so 
great  wus  the  embarrassment  I  met  with  from  my  feet, 
that  -with  all  my  exertion,  I  did  not  travel  more  than  four 
miles  through  the  remainder  of  that  day.  My  feet  were 
too  much  sv>  olen  to  admit  of  my  travelling  with  my  shoes 
on  ;  I  was,  therefore,  under  the  disagreeable  necessity  of 
carrying  them  in  my  hands.  This  was  on  Saturday  ;  and 
I  concluded,  that  resting  one  day  without  travelling,  would 
serve  to  recruit  my  feet  so  as  to  be  able  to  wear  my  shoes. 
And  as  I  should  have  a  plausible  pretext  for  lying  by  on 
Sunday,  I  determined  to  appropriate  that  time  for  such  a 
purpose. 

I  found  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  travel  in  this 
country  without  giving  some  account  of  myself,  or  disoblig- 
ing the  people  at  whose  houses  I  should  call  ;  and  there- 
fore  found  it  necessary  to  fix  upon  some  system,  and  be 
uniform  in  it.  To  pass  for  an  inhabitant  of  any  of  the 
towns  in  New-England,  I  was  constantly  exposed  to  meet 
with  people,  whu  w^ould  either  be  %n  inhabitant  of)  or  ac- 
quainted in  the  tov/n  from  whence  I  pretended  to  come  ; 
and  this  leading  to  a  discovery  of  the  deception,  people 
would  be  led  to  form  unfavorable  conjectures  concernin^-^' 
ine,  perhaps,  more  than  they  cughc.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, I  thought  it  best  to  pass  for  a  foreigner,  and 
lay  the  scene  of  my  birth,  kc.  in  London  ;  as  the  probabil- 
ity w  ould  be,  that  1  should  not  often  meet  with  my  fellow 
tov/nsmen  of  that  place  ;  and  even  should  that  be  the  case* 
I  could  still  act  my  part  without  detection  as  a  m.ember 
of  that  great  city  ;  it  being  easiiy  accounted  for  that  I  should 
not  be  acquainted  with  every  individual  in  sucii  a  populcais 
place.  My  birth,  place  of  abode,  Sec.  I  fixed  in  Leaden- 
hall-street.  My  real  parentage,  connexions,  Sec.  I  retain- 
ed, only  transporting  them  t«  London.  Some  account  I 
must  give  for  my  leaving  England,  and  coming  into  Anitr- 
ica,  and  for  my  present  forlorn  situation.  I  concluded 
that  the  real  account,  with  a  little  alteriition,  would  answer, 
only  changing  the  place  of  action.  Moreover,  as  this  last 
information  would  be  considered  by  people  in  general,  as 
a  delicate  point,  they  would  be  more  willing  to  receive 
their  inforniation  by  distant  hints, 

VOL.  II.  B 


U  MEMOIRS  OF 

I  had  determined  to  vcar  this  character  until  I  could  in- 
troduce myself  into  l)usiness,  and  obtain  an  establishment 
for  my  family  ;  until  I  could,  likewise,  seethe  operations 
of  the  world  towards  me,  under  my  red  name.  I  expect- 
ed that  in  this  situation  I  could  form  a  better  estimate  of 
•wh;it  would  be  prudent  for  me  to  do,  as  I  should  then  be 
in  a  capacity  to  learn  the  feelini^s  of  the  public  towards 
me  ;  and  Vvhat  would  be  their  treatment,  should  1  discover 
myself  and  reassume  my  real  character. 

I  entered  a  tavern  and  called  for  entertainment  over 
night.  Soon  after  I  had  been  in  the  house,  I  discovered 
the  landlord  was  sick.  After  inquiry,  I  perceived  that 
he  had  the  remitting;  fever,  which  I  m.entioned  in  the 
course  of  conversation.  This  aroused  his  attention,  and 
he  enquired  eagerly  whether  1  was  a  doctor  ?  Thinking  I 
might  reap  an  advantage  from  this  profession  on  this  oc- 
casion, and  being  persuaded  1  could  help  the  man,  I  as- 
sumed the  character  of  an  English  physician  with  no  small 
degree  of  parade.  Iwas  fortunate  in  my  administrations, 
which  gave  seasonable  and  efrectu.i  relief 

I  tarried  here  till  jMcnday  morning,  and  to  my  no  small 
satisfaction,  found  I  could  travel  v/ith  my  shoes  on  my 
feet.  When  1  departed,  I  was  rewarded  with  a  French 
crown  for  my  medical  assistance.  About  noon  this  day  I 
overtook  a  man  dressed  in  clean,  neat  apparel,  carrying  a 
bottle  of  rum.  He  accosted  me  in  the  following  manner. 
"•  Shipmate,  will  ye  take  a  drop  of  rum  to  cheer  your 
spirits  this  warm  day  r"  I  did  not  wish  to  treat  his  friend- 
jy  salutation  with  neglect  or  contempt.  It  has  ever  been 
a  principle  by  which  I  have  wished  to  regulate  my  con- 
duct, to  treat  the  sentiments  of  benevolence  with  attention, 
let  them  be  manifested  in  ever  so  singular  cr  wncouth  a 
mi.nncr.  Accordingly,  I  accepied  the  benevolent  invita- 
tion  of  this  Kibernian.  Not  being  possessed  with  an  ap- 
petite for  rum,  1  only  put  ihe  bottle  to  my  mouth,  and  of- 
fered to  retuin  it ;  but  my  fellow-trc.reller  refused  to  re- 
ceive it  uniil  I  had  drank  again.  ''  And  now,  sir,''  said  he, 
"  lam  an  Lishmari  myself  I  have  lived  in  this  country 
fourteeu  yera's.  I  married  a  fine  girl  here,  and  have  five 
Hne  clii'.drcn.     I  tell  you,  sir,  they  »re  'as  likely  cbildreii 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  15^ 

as  any  in  the  country  ;  and  this  is  allowed  by  all.  I  serv- 
ed my  time  in  Dublin  with  a  -weaver  My  father  was  a 
■weaver  ;  and  indeed  he  thought  no  little  of  himself  at  that 
business :  but  one  bloody  day  I  bate  him  at  weaving  ;  at 
v/hich  the  old  man  orthered  me  to  fetch  him  a  pail  of  wa- 
ther,  and  he  poor'd  it  on  the  ground.  This  he  kept  doing 
till  I  fatched  forty  pails  of  wather  :  then  the  old  man  took 
and  gave  me  a  bloody  bating.  At  this  I  run  off  and  listed 
for  a  soldier,  and  came  into  this  country.  But,  sir,  you 
look  like  one  in  distress.  Are  ye  of  this  country  r*' iSIy 
answer  was  in  the  negative,  but  told  him  I  was  from  Lon= 
don.  At  this  the  Hibernian  jumped  towards  me,  seized 
rne  by  the  hand,  and  shook  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to  feel 
that  he  was  in  earnest.  He  observed  that  we  were  old 
neighbors ;  for  London,  said  he,  is  but  a  short  bit  from. 
Dublin. 

After  our  mutually  recognizing  each  other  for  old  neigh- 
bors, he  looked  at  me  with  an  arch  significance,  and  ob- 
served, that  some  misfortune  he  presumed  had  brought 
me  to  this  country.  I  told  him,  it  truly  was  so  ;  that  an 
unfortunate  contest  had  rendered  it  necessary  for  me  to 
leave  the  country  "  O  ho  1"  siud  he,  "  you  fought  a  du- 
el ?"  I  assented.  "  By  J — s,"  said  he,  '^  did  you  challenge 
him  fair  ?"  I  did.  He  then  seized  my  hand  again,  and 
declared  he  was  satisfied  that  I  was  a  good  fellow.  ''  And 
by  the  Immortal,"  said  he,  "  you  shall  go  home  with  me, 
and  I  will  keep  you  a  fortnight,  and  then  will  put  a  dollar 
into  your  hand.  I  am  determined  to  fight  a  duel  myself 
■with  a  bloody  rascal,"*who  sojd  me  a  cow,  and  told  me  she 
was  farrow,  and  all  the  time  she  had  a  calf  in  her  ;  and  you 
shall  go  and  be  my  second." 

You  will  readily  conceive  that  this  invitation  did  no  way 
comport  with  my  views  and  desire.  I  had  recourse  to  a 
number  of  excuses  to  elude  the  force  of  it.  The  Hiberni- 
an was  not  willing  to  accept  any  apology  I  could  make  ; 
and  it  w-as  with  difficulty  I  obtained  my  release  from  this 
knight  of  the  bottle.  However,  after  marching  and  coun- 
termarching some  length  of  time  he  gare  up  the  pursuit; 
ivA  let  me  depart  with  the  honors  of  war. 


16  MEMOIRS  OF 

Thus  I  found  it  difficult  to  pass  without  great  obstruc- 
tions in  my  first  essays  upon  the  plan  which  I  had  studied 
with  so  mucli  caution,  and  which  I  thought  might  be  pur- 
sued without  interruption.  Sir,  my  best  wishes  wait  on 
you. 


CHAP-  II. 

*•  Bent  on  destruction,  and  in  love  witli  death  ! 
Not  all  these  luminaries,  quench'd  at  once, 
Were  half  so  sad  as  one  benig-hted  mind, 
Which  gropes  for  happiness,  and  meets  despair." 

ixFTER  I  had  freed  myself  from  my  troublesome  com- 
panion, I  hastened  on  to  Stonington-Point,  in  order  to  find 
a  pcissage  to  Long-Island.  When  I  had  arrived,  I  found 
the  prospect  of  such  a  passage  not  very  flattering  ;  and 
therefore  determined  to  go  to  New-London,  a  town  four-., 
teen  miles  distant,  where  I  was  informed  a  packet  ran  re- 
gularly once  a  week.  In  the  course  of  the  next  day  I  ar- 
rived at  New-London,  where  I  immediately  went  on  board 
a  boat  ready  to  sail  for  Long-Island.  Early  the  next  morn- 
ing we  arrived  at  Sag-Harbor,  the  only  port  of  entry  on 
this  island. 

I  now  supposed  myself  on  ground  where  I  should  no 
longer  be  exposed  to  the  cruel  lash  of  the  envenomed 
tongue  of  slander.  I  supposed  my-self  in  a  situation  con- 
venient to  begin  my  operations  in  order  to  establish  myself 
in  business.  I  passed  hei-e  for  an  Englishman  lately  from 
London,  forbearing  to  subjoin  the  word  new.  My  name 
was  demanded.  I  told  them  it  was  Stephen  Edenson,  (my 
father's  name  being  Eden.)  The  people  therefore  called 
jny  name  Edenson.     I  acquiesced  in  the  name. 

I  began  to  inquire  for  a  vacancy  where  a  school -master 
was  wanted.  I  had  not  long  made  tiie  inquiry,  before  I 
was  accosted  by  a  gentleman,  who  introduced  himself  to 
me  by  the  name  of  Havens.  I  was  informed  by  the  land- 
lord of  the  inn  where  I  had  put  up,  that  the  gentleman 
was  Judge  Havens  of  Shelter-Island.  After  inquiring 
from  whence  I  came,  my  education,  my  age,  my  objects, 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  17 

kc.  he  informed  me  that  he  lived  on  Shelter-Island,  about 
three  miles  from  that  pkce  ;  thtit  the  island  contained 
about  thirty  families  ;  thai  they  were  destitute  of  a  school, 
and  wished  to  eng.;ge  an  instructor  ;  "  therefore,"  said  he, 
"  if  you  wish  to  accept  ihe  chctnce,  I  will  use  my  influence 
in  your  behalf  on  theislmd,  thatfoa  mty  obtain  the  school. 
It  will  not  be  an  object  of  any  considerable  consequence, 
only  to  give  you  a  temporary  standing  amon^  us,  until  you 
become  acquainted  with  the  ways  and  manners  of  the  peo- 
ple of  this  countrv^  and  learn  the  objects  which  may  oSer 
lor  your  attention." 

I  accepted  the  o*Jer  made  by  Judge  Havens,  and  took 
passage  with  him  in  a  boat  going  to  the  island.  V/hen  I 
arrived,  I  found  the  island  lying  nearly  in  a  circular  form, 
containing,  by  estimation,  about  8000  ucres.  On  this  island 
lived  the  number  offamiiies  as  mentioned  before  ;  among 
^vhom  were  three,  by  the  name3  of  Nichols,  D  jaring,  and 
Havens,  who  were  the  chief  proprietors  of  the  island. 
There  was  a  tavern  kept  by  one  Havens,  in  the  middle  of 
the  island.  He  likev^ise  kept  a  small  store  of  goods  in  his 
house.  This  man  possessing  many  slngulaiiues,  -svhich 
rendered  him  a  person  on  v/hom  the  attention  of  strangers 
-was  naturally  drawn,  I  think  it  aeccssriry  to  give  you  some 
furii^er  description  of  him. 

This  publican  was  extremely  fond  of  being  in  the  secret 
of  every  man's  business  and  circumstances,  and  not  only 
so,  but  likewise  to  have  it  thought  so  by  others.  So  strong 
was  his  desire  for  knowledge  in  all  the  minute  circum- 
stances v>'hich  rel-.ted  to  anyone,  that,  wheiW/er  a  stranger 
entered  his  house,  his  first  conversation  would  be  directed 
to  his  name,  circumsiances,  connexions,  Sec,  Should  the 
stranger  chsjice  to  carry  .i  portmanteau  with  hira,  or  a  bun- 
dle of  any  kind  wnatever,  he  might  lay  his  account  to  havo 
it  searched,  even  before  his  face"  Hi's  thirst  for  conversa- 
tion was  insatiable.  Hid  tongue  h  ad  almost  become  a  per- 
petual motion,  and  what  rendered  tnis  circumscaace  high- 
ly disagreeable  was,  that  he  was  so  deaf  that  one  must  hal- 
loo with  great  strength  in  order  to  nvAe  iuni  iiear  any  an- 
swers to  his  innumerabte  questions.  He  was  fond  of 
shewing  his  sagacity  by  understanding  half  ans\-jr3y  ^v^d 

VOL.  II.  c 


lo  MEMOIRS  OF 

ir^oiionsof  the  head  and  countenance.  Hence  he  frequent- 
ly obtained  strange  ideas  of  the  occurrences  of  the  limes, 
S:c.  Notwithst^iulhig  this  humorous  side  of  the  picture, 
the  reverse  was  drawn  with  many  virtues.  He  was  a  man 
<^f  unshaken  integrity  in  all  matters  in  which  he  was  con- 
cerned, either  of  a  public  or  private  nature  ;  much  attach- 
ed to  order  and  regularity  as  a  member  of  society,  rigidly 
just  in  all  his  dealings,  and  a  constant  promoter  of  the 
memsof  general  information.  Under  these  circumstances, 
many  laughed  at  his  foibles,  and  at  the  same  time  revered 
his  virtues.  Mr.  Nichols  was  born  to  a  state  of  affluence, 
and  was  happily  connecte'1  with  a  most  agreeable  family. 
Col.  Deariijg  v/as  in  "possession  of  a  large  estate,  encum- 
bered vaih  considerable  debts,  which,  by  a  system  of  strict 
cconon.y,  he  was  annually  decreasing.  This  man  posses- 
sed good  information  respecting  his  domestic  matters,  be- . 
yond  which  his  capacity  did  not  extend.  He  was  extreme- 
ly haughty,  and  a  presbyterian  bigot. 

1  found  the  secluded  situation  of  this  island  had  a  very 
decided  influence  upon  the  manners  of  its  inhabitants.  By 
3iot  having  that  ccnstant  opportuniiy  for  intercourse  with 
other  parts  of  the  world,  they  beciime  extremely  attached 
to  their  OAvn  peculiar  manners  and  customs,  to  a  degree  of 
bigotry,  which  was  very  disagreeable  to  a  stranger  up^n  a 
■first  iicciu?iintance.  I  found  that  want  of  ease  and  accessi- 
bility, of  that  candor  and  liberality,  vvhich  so  peculiarly 
characterises  a  people  of  refinement.  Notwithstanding, 
when  these  difTiculties  were  once  surmounted,  I  found 
hem  a  people  possessing  many  excellent  qualities  of  heart. 

The  principles  of  economy  were  pretty  vv  ell  understood 
.y  the  inhabi'ants  of  this  island.  Their  soil  was  not  so 
luxuriant  as  to  preclude  the  necessity  of  economy.  An 
acre  of  this,  ground  would  produce,  upon  an  average,  fif- 
teen bushels  of  wheat,  and  twenty-four  bushels  of  Indian 
corn.  It  afforded  a  moderate  s'.rpply  of  gra^s  for  neat  cat- 
tle ;  but  the  productions  of  a  dairy,  which  might  be  made 
considerably  profitable,  were  entirely  neglected.  Their 
improvements  in  agriculture  did  not  appear  to  be  making 
rapid  advances  towards  perfection.  Their  situation  was 
under  most  excellent  privileges,  as  it  relented  to  marketing 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  19 

Iheir  produce,  and  obtaining  their  returns  ;  it  ever  being 
convenient  to  send  to  New- York  by  vessels  from  their  own 
shores.  Land  on  this  island  sold  about  eight  dollars  the 
acre. 

I  obtained  a  school  at  the  moderate  price  of  six  dolhrs 
per  month,  together  with  my  boarding,  washing  and  lodg- 
ing. I  entered  upon  this  office  with  no  very  sanguine  ex- 
pectations of  making  a  pemianent  establishment  for  my- 
self and  family.  Yet  it  was  a  resting  place  from  severer 
trials.  I  was  retired  from  the  world,  and  sheltered  from 
the  storm,  which  had  been  so  abundantly  poured  upon  my 
devoted  head.  I  was  in  a  situation,  I  thought,  too  incon- 
siderable to  raise  the  feelings  of  jealousy,  or  alarm  the 
most  selfish  mind.  Yet  in  this  I  labored  under  a  mistaken 
apprehension.  A  son  of  the  inn-keeper,  who  had  former- 
ly taught  a  school  on  this  island,  whs  much  mjortiiied  at 
my  introduction  into  a  place  whici  he  had  once  filled,  and 
which  he  wished  to  occupy  again.  He  considered  roe  as 
a  person  of  very  little  consequence,  being  poorly  dressed, 
and  was  attentive  to  treat  me  accordingly.  He  frequently 
gave  me  invitations  to  assist  him  in  the  la1x)rs  of  the  field 
at  my  leisure  hours  from  school.  He  carried  Lis  polite- 
ness so  far  one  afternoon,  as  to  threaten  to  turn  me  out  of 
the  house,  if  I  would  not  assist  him  in  raking  hay.  But 
my  tranquillity  was  not  much  injured  by  these  circum- 
stances, knowing  this  spark  to  be  totally  destitute  of  t'^iC 
power  vrhich  he  threatened  to  exercise  ;  and  otherwise 
too  inconsiderable  to  aftect  my  interest  with  the  people. 

My  situation  was  such  as  to  excite  the  greatest  anxiety 
of  the  inn-keeper  to  develope  a  character  which  appeared 
to  be  somewhat  Teiled  in  mysteiy.  His  assiduous  atien- 
lion  to  my  concerns  was  marked  with  the  most  noticeable 
circumstances.  He  would  often  throw  himself  in  my  w.iy , 
in  order  to  assure  me  how  much  he  felt  interested  in  n.y 
weifaie,  and  likewise  of  the  unbounded  confidence  I  rln;^^.t 
place  in  him,  in  any  matters  which  might  partake  of  the 
nature  of  difficulty  or  secrecy. 

By  half  answers,  inuendos  and  shrewd  suggestions,  the 
Old  m:.n  had  obtained  a  most  surprising  idea  of  my  hisio- 
ry  ;  and  Borry  s^i  I  to  say  it,  too  much  vra*  uGted  on  my 


30  ^  MEMOIRS  OF  . 

put,  to  communicate  this  unfounded  system  of  ideas  in 
his  inlnd.  These  were  secrets  of  too  great  magnitude 
for  him  to  comprise  in  his  own  breast,  without  pain  of  tiie 
gieatest  iiind  ;  therefore,  to  ease  his  mind  of  the  enor- 
mous loud  under  which  he  groziued,  he  imparted  his  trust 
to  mi.ny  of  his  friends.  However,  they  were  not  convinced 
!h:it  they  had  obtained  all  the  circumstances  which  related 
\  )  my  life.  They  therefore  entered  into  a  plan  to  pursue 
■  lie  cii:icovcry  ;  and  accordingly  agreed  among  themselves 
persuade  me  to  Avrite  to  some  of  my  acquaintance  in 
i^Uj-iAud,  or  some  of  the  British  dominions  ;  and  uncle 
Jim.  us  the  innl^eeper  was  called,  was  to  send  the  letter, 
:  V  t!ie  v\'a.y  of  Ncw-Vork,  imniedidteiy  to  the  place  of  des- 
Iriation.  Uncle  Jirn's  deafness  discovered  to  me  the 
!ot  which  was  so  ingeniously  concerted,  and  the  part 
hich  he  v,'3s  to  maintain  in  it.  Being  appiised  of  the 
design  cf  ibis  jacobin  club,  I  eusiiy  cntei-ed  into  the  plan, 
arid  made  it  u  scene  of  great  amusement.  I  wrote  a  long 
letter  to  the  Right  Honorable  Lord  George  Montague, 
Sec.  kc.  :  I  filled  the  body  of  the  letter  v/ith  hii^h  encomi- 
U7113  upon  uncle  Jim  and  his  family,  more  particularly  his 
daughters.  This  was  touching  him  upon  a  string  which 
-.ibr-ted  to  the  cirnire  of  his  heart.  His  favorite  object 
v*ds  the  beauty  of  his  daughters  and  the  excellency  of  his 
family.  The  olcl  gentleman  was  running  over  full  of  sat- 
isfaction upon  the  discovery  of  these  mighty  state  secrets. 
H-e  began  to  contem.plpte  the  probaljility  of  his  becoming 
known  to  the  first  families  in  the  British  donanions,  and 
of  obtaining  the  whole  budget  of  secrets  relating  to  them  ; 
and  likewise  the  office  of  an  agent  to  transact  their  busi- 
ness. 

Tiiese  circumstances  brought  me  into  a  situation  some- 
what disagreeable.  I  was  reduced  to  a  condidon  in  wd;iich 
I  was  obliged,  in  seme  mersurcj  to  i;ive  countenance  to 
those  representations  which  I  found  had  obtained  among 
the  people  at  large.  The  fact  was,  that  for  my  own  di- 
version. 1  had  given  rise  to  those  lidiculous  ideas  which 
had  t:;ken  such  deep  rjot  in  the  minds  of  those  who  were 
concerned  in  the  letter  plot ^  that  I  found  no  small  degree 
oi"  daneer  in  receding  from  the  ground  wliich  I  had  first 
t:d:cii. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  21 

As  I  became  more  acquainted  with  the  people  on  this 
:  Viand,  I  found  their  curiosity  more  exercised  in  penetrat- 
ing the  secrets  of  my  pretended  history.  Their  continu- 
ed questions  on  this' subject  growing  more  and  more  irk- 
some, I  found,  that  by  my  own  imprudence,  I  had  involv- 
ed myself  in  adisAgreeab'le  and  ridiculous  situation. 

About  this  time  I  became  acquainted  with  a  man  called 
Doctor  Havens,  possessing  this  appellation  by  courtesy, 
rather  than  by  merit  in  the  science  of  medicine.  He  put 
tvvo  of  his  children  under  my  care  as  an  instructor.  As 
Iiis  character  will  appear  several  times  in  the  course  of 
this  narrative,  it  will  be  necessary  to  give  you  some  gen- 
eral sketch  of  this  man,  previous  to  my  proceeding  to  par- 
ticulars in  which  he  was  concerned.  As  I  have  hinted, 
this  man  was  very  ignorant ;  of  a  mind,  by  nature,  sordid 
arid  clownish  in  the  extreme  ;  possessing  no  feelings  of 
delicacy  or  propriety  ;  yet  very  ambidous  of  introducing- 
his  family  into  the  high  and  more  refined  circles  of  life. 
Being  governed  by  no  principle,  he  ever  used  such  means 
as  came  in  his  way,  to  further  his  objects,  wichout  any  re- 
ference to  their  quality  or  merit.  He  would  appear  gen- 
erous and  hospitable  to  such  characters  as  he  thought 
v.ould  promote  his  interests,  or  further  his  objects;  but 
to  others  he  appeared  in  the  native  hue  of'  selfish  penury. 

You  will  readily  conclude  that  a  man  of  this  cast  would 
not  be  idle  under  circumstances  of  such  a  kind  as  those  in 
which  I  was  involved.  Often  I  had  invitations  of  the 
warmest  kind  to  make  his  house  my  home.  When  I  made 
Lini  visits,  I  was  treated  with  a  degree  of  hospitality  trulv 
j^rateful.  I  often  found  him  indirectly  hinting  that  my 
present  situation  of  appai^nt  poverty  did  not  preclude  my 
attention  and  success  among  the  ladies  v/ho  were  standing 
in  the  market  for  marriage,  (by  the  way,  the  Doctor  had 
tv,-o  daughters  in  that  predicament)  and  of  inti  c^ducing  my- 
self into  business,  by  which  I  could  maintain  a  family,  and 
support  a  reputation  of  credit  anicng  the  people  ;  observ- 
ing with  great  sagacity,  hov/  different  matters  of  such  a 
nature  were  in  this  country  from  what  they  were  in  En.sc- 
land.  He  gave  me  an  invitation  of  commencing  business 
in  partnership  with  one  of  his  sons,  in  the  mergantile  line  ; 

r    "^ 


t2  MEMOIRS  OF 

observinc^  that,  could  T  raise  5O0l.  by  the  help  of  my  fi-iends, 
he  would  let  one  cf  bis  sons  carry  on  the  busipiess  for  me 
for  half  the  profits^  intimatins^  that  such  an  offer  was  gen- 
erous on  his  side,  as  the  weight  of  the  business  would  lie 
upon  his  son,  until  1  sisould  become  acquainted  with  the 
mode  of  doin;^  business  in  America.  I  found  to  my  sur- 
prize, the  most  pointed  enmity  existing  between  this  man 
and  his  only  brother,  who  was  his  nearest  neighbor,  and 
also  between  the  two  f.imilics.  I  wiisby  no  means  back- 
ward in  munifesthig  my  astonishment  upon  the  occasion  ; 
but  by  the  representation  of  the  Doctor  and  his  family,  was 
Liven  to  understand  that  his  brother  Constant  v/as,.  of  all 
the  various  works  of  n^.ture,  the  worst,  the  most  unnatural 
and  inhuman.  This  reason  quieted  my  astonishment,  but 
did  not  satisfy  my  feelings,  iinally,  the  clownish  blunt- 
iscss  of  the  old  Doctor  served  tp  cover  many  vices  of  the 
mind,  y.hich  would  have  been^  suspected  sooner  in  one 
possessed  of  politer  manners. 

Tliis  man  was  as  avaricious  for  i:iformation  into  the  sub- 

.  :t  of  secret  'ustory  as  his  namesake,  the  inn-keeper;  but 
iheir  motives  for  obtaininr:^  this  informaiion  were  very  dif- 
fereiit.  The  one  sought  it  for  the  gratifxcicion  of  internal 
feelin;j;s;  the  ot.h.er  for  the  opportunity  df  turning  such  a 
circumstance- to  his  advantage  in  adding  to  his  property, 
or  proiuoiing  the  advancement  of  his  family.  The  Doc- 
tor had  no  emburrassment  cf  delicacy  to  surmount:  he 
cameimmediately  to  the  point,  and  insisted,  sa/is  certmo- 
nic^  to  be  initiated  into  the  whole  system  cf  secrecy.  He 
was  not  to  be  turned  off  by  a  polite  evasion,  or  an  intima- 
tion that  the  matters,  into  M'hich  he  inquired,  were  not  to. 
be  divulged.  His  professions  of  friendship  were  unbound- 
ed ;  hiB  assiduities  of  attention  were  innumerable,  and  his 
feeUnes  i  tally  appeared  to  be  interested  in  my  behalf.  He 
gained  my  conhdcnce  so  far,  as  fully  to  believe  that  his 
professions  were  sincere,  notv.'itlistanding  many  intima- 
^  v>ns  front  others  relating  to  his  general  character.     Yet  I 

,.  ver  esletmed  him  as  a  confideniir.l  friend,  owing  to  his- 
\Vi»5it  of  w^bi lilies  more  than  uprightness,  in  my  vie-w. 
Judge  Havens  was  anotJier  chiractcr  who  made  his  ap- 

jarance  upon  the  sugc  of  action  at  this  time  j  but  per- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

formed  a  very  different  part  froiTi  the  others  who  iiavc 
been  ah'eady  mentioned.  He  was  a  man  of  science,  and 
by  no  means  affected  with  the  mania  of  discovering^  secrets. 
A  close  application  to  study  had  produced  in  him  a  habit 
of  appearing  absent  in  company,  unless  the  subject  of  con- 
versation tui-ned  upon  some  branch  of  science  ;  then  h^ 
became, animated  and  instnictive. 

He  lived  somewhat  secluded  from  common  access,  ov/- 
m^  to  his  coninual  perseverance  in  the  pursuit  of  science. 
His  genius  was  not  brilliant;  but  his  unabating  industry 
supplied  the  defect.  He  thought  with  metaphysical  accu- 
'racy  upon  eveiy  subject  which  he  undertook  to  invesli- 
.ejate  ;  v."hich  often  produced  too  great  a  degree  of  refine- 
ment in  his  theories  for  the  convenience  of  practice.  He 
■  as  a  man  of  delicate  feelings,  though  not  so  suddenly 
:  ioved  as  many  others  of  a  more  volatile  constitution.^  His 
integrity  as  a  public  character  v.-as  inviolate.  As  a  private 
companion,  he  was  pleasingand  agreeable;  and, asamem- 
ber  of  society,  he  was  useful  and  beneficial. 

This  was  the  pleasing  side  of  tne  portrait.  The  re- 
verse was  not  greatly  darkened.  His  temper  partook 
somewhat  of  the  obstinate.  He  wis  ambitious  of  popu- 
larity, and  somewhat  timid  in  pursuing  those  measures 
which  might  render  him  unpopular,  hov/ever  justice  m.ight 
call  for  them.  In  some  of  his  transactions  in  the  field  of 
iove,  his  moral  rectitude  had  been  censured  by  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  vicinity ;  and  as  that  was  a  subject  of  too 
much  delicacy  for  me  to  introduce  to  him,  I  never  heard 
his .  observations  upon  it,  and  therefore  had  but  a  partial 
idea  of  the  matter. 

Thus  stood  the  principal  cliaracters  with  whom  I  wa« 
immediately  concerned  as  an. instructor  for  their  children. 
I  pursued  the  business  with  close  application  ;  and,  ^s  I 
flattered  myself,  with  a  degree  of  reputation.  I  had  not 
continued  long  in  this  situatiofi,  before  my  kind  entertain- 
er, uncle  Jim,  introduced  the  idea  of  my  writing  for  the 
periodical  publications  of  the  press.  This  subject  did  not 
find  an  agreeable  place  in  my  mind.  I  was  a  stranger  in 
the  place  ;  ignorant  of  the  prevalent  ideas  of  the  country, 
their  political  and  moral  character.     Moreover,  (strange 


24  MEMOIRS  or 

as  it  may  seem  from  my  conduct)  I  wished  to  rcm:\in  as 
little  lyiown  in  tl.is  ])ldce  as  possible,  and  therefore  declined 
the  proposal.  Yet  I  found  the  old  gentleman  so  tenacious- 
ly attached  to  the  plan,  that  I  was  quite  surprised  ;  how- 
ever, from  the  drift  of  his  discourse  upon  the  subject,  I 
liad  concluded  that  liis  idea  was,  to  appear  himself  as  the 
author  of  the  husiness,  proposinc^  to  copy  the  pieces  in  h.is 
own  hand  writing,  previous  to  their  going  to  the  press,  and 
to  have  the  matter  known  only  between  him  and  me.  The 
old  gentleman,  on  this  occasion,  not  only  professed  a  great 
disposition  for  secrecy  on  his  part,  but  also  enjoined  the 
like  on  me,  in  the  most  pointed  and  earnest  manner. 

Under  this  view  of  the- matter,  I  consented  to  his  pro- 
posal. I  began  my  literary  task  under  the  name  of  the 
Philanthropist.  I  had  proceeded  as  far  as  the  fourth  or 
fifth  number,  before  any  thing  of  note  took  place  in  conse- 
quence of  these  publications,  excepting  the  pleasure  which 
uncle  Jim  apparently  enjoyed  in  transacting  the  business, 
under  the  veil  of  secrecy.  At  length,  a  clergyman  of 
Southampton,  taking  the  alarm  at  some  sentiments  here 
manifested,  published  a  very  spirited  answer  to  them.  A 
reply  on  my  part  was  then  unavoidable.  The  clergyman 
answered  my  reply,  and  I  rejoined  to  his  answer.  By  this 
time  the  attention  of  the  public  v/as  excited  to  the  contro- 
versy, more,  than  to  the  merit  of  the  publications  ;  and  they 
were  of  course  anxious  to  know  the  combatants.  It  was 
known  at  the  printing-office,  that  uncle  Jim  uniformly 
brought  the  Philanthropist  for  publication  ;  and  also  that 
the  manuscripts  were  ever  in  his  hand  writing.  These 
circumstances  turned  the  eyes  of  the  public  upon  him  ; 
and  he  possessed  the  fortitude,  for  some  time,  to  retain 
the  secret ;  but  at  length  it  became  a  burden  too  heavy 
for  him  to  support  alone.  Therefore  he  imparted  it  to 
some  of  his  intimate  friends,  who  compassionately  reliev- 
ed him  from  the  cumber,  by  dissolving  the  charm  of  se- 
crecy, and  giving  the  matter  to  the  public. 

I  now  found  a  retreat  the  only  place  of  safety  ;  and  there- 
fore withdrew  my  lucubrations  from  the  press ;  and  here 
ended  the  matter,  as  it  related  to  me  in  the  character  of 
the  Philanthropists     But  I  had,  by  this  time,   excited  the 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

attention  of  the  public,  and  every  one  v/as  ready  to  make 
his  o^vn  comments  upon  u  character  so  new  ;  having,  by 
direct  and  indirect  means,  given  myself  a  character  very 
novel ;  and  my  intimate  friends  had  highly  embellished 
the  superstructure  which  my  fancy  had  reared.  There 
v.ere  almost  as  many  different  opinions  concerning  me  as 
there  were  persons  to  form  them.  But  none  of  the  vuri- 
gus  conjectures  happened  to  light  on  the  identical  charac- 
ter which  I  had  sustained  in  reality,  though  the  publica- 
tions from  Worcester  relating  to  my  confinement,  trial, 
and  escape  were  among  this  people. 

I  found  no  prospect  of  making  an  establishment  for  ray 
family  on  this  island,  the  encouragement  for  instructing 
was  so  small ;  and.as  that  was  an  object  of  the  utmost  con- 
sequence to  me;  I  turned  my  attention  to  some  other  place. 
I  made  application  for  a  birth,  when  my  time  should  ex- 
pire on  Shelter  Island,  at  a  number  of  places  ;  cinfl  .U  length 
found  hii  opening  in  a  paiish  called  Bridghampton,  a  part 
of  Southampton,  on  Long-Island.  At  this  place  I  engag- 
ed to  teach  a  school  at  the  price  of  twelve  dollars  per 
month,  without  the  privilege  of  board  or  any  of  its  appen- 
dages. I  engaged  to  begiii  this  school  in  tv.o  weeks  cTter 
the  time  cf  n:y  teaching  the  ether  should  expire,  w4*tch 
time  of  inter n.iission  1  hi'd'deterwiiiied  to  appropriate  to 
the  purpose  of  revisiting  my  family,  and  le.;rning  the  op- 
eration of  things  since  I  h^d  left  them.  As  this  time  ap- 
proached, my  unxiety  to  put  my  inte.ided  visit  into  execu- 
tion increased  lo  sueJi  a  dc.^!;ree  as  to  depi  ivc  m.e  of  sleep. 

I  lived,  at  this  time,  in  the  family  of  Judge  Havens.  I 
endeavored  to  enter  into  his  chanicter  and  disposition  ;  and 
to  penetrate  the  governing  principles  by  which  he  was  ac- 
tuated. After  I  had  satisfied  my  mind  upon  these  heads, 
I  determined  to  lay  open  to  his  view  the  whole  of  my  sit- 
uation, and  consult  him  upon  that  line  of  conduct  which  he 
should  think  adviseable,  in  order  to  answer  the  ol)ject 
V  Fiich  lay  so  near  my  heart.  I  had  fixed  upon  the  time, 
in  my  own  mind,  lo  unfold  this  circumstance.  I  came 
prepared  from  school  at  the  intended  time  to  put  in  force 
this  resolution.  But  while  I  walked  leisurely  from  the 
school-house  to  my  lodgings,  which  Avas  about  one    hiui- 


26  Memoirs  of 

dredrods,  it  occurred  to  my  mind  into  what  a  disagreeable 
situation  I  had  once  been  involved  by  communicating  such 
a  secixt ;  how  possible,  and  even  how  probable  it  was  I 
might  be  deceived  in  my  expectations  from  Judge  Havens, 
notwithstanding  my  favorable  predictions  towards  him  ; 
how  often  I  had  been  egregiously  deceived  by  the  con- 
duct of  certain  characters  when  the  prospects  of  life  were 
changed ;  how  he  must  be  surpnsed  at  coming  to  the 
knowledge  of  real  facts  relating  to  me.  Under  this  vie '^r 
of  the  matter,  I  shrunk  back  from  the  scene,  r.nd  durst  not 
proceed.  I  concluded  still  io  let  matters  of  this  khid  lie 
in  a  state  of  secrecy,  until  I  had  been  back  to  Charlton, 
ftnd  learned  the  feelings  and  sentiments  of  mankind  con- 
cerning me. 

My  timeof  enagagement  was  alinost  expired.  I  soon, 
expected  to  rccross  the  Sound,  and  measure  back  my  for- 
mer steps  to  Charlton.  This  last  part  of  my  time  seem- 
ed to  move  with  leaden  feet.  I  had  not  heard  from  my 
family,  connexions,  or  acquaintance,  since  1  left  them.  I 
Imd  not  written  to  them,  nor  fiiid  I  dared  to  inquire  after 
tliem,  or  any  of  the  inhabitants  living  in  that  part  of  the 
world.  Therefore  my  desire  to  gee  them  was  beyond  the 
i)ower  of  language  to  express.  At  this  moment,  when 
my  wishes  Avere  abnost  gratified  ;  when  the  object  of  my 
most  earnest  desire  was  almost  vvithin  my  power,  I  was 
suddenly  taken  sick  with  the  remitting  fever. 

This  stroke  was  too  much  for  my  utmost  fortitude  to 
endure.  I  sunk  under  it.  I  felt  the  weakness  of  a  child. 
It  struck  me  in  a  part  which  I  was  not  prepared  to  defend. 
I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  submitting  to  a  fit  of  sick- 
ness at  the  present  juncture  ;  but  sad  necessity  taught  me 
that  I  must  endure  what  I  could  not  avert.  My  fond  prob- 
pects  were  blasted  ;  the  painted  vision  of  enjoyment  fled 
from  my  vievv-.  The  little  money  which  I  had,  with  so 
much  perseverance,  scraped  together  for  my  small  ex- 
cursion into  the  country,  was  likely  to  be  all  swallowed  \rp 
by  the  expenses  of  sickness,  v.hich  must  eventually  pre- 
clude die  possibility  of  my  returning  to  my  family.  These 
circumstances,  which  foreboded  the  most  dismal  pros- 
])ccts,  left  but  little  consolation  to  my  feelings.  The  fe- 
ver and  melancholy  made  rapid  havcck  of  my  constitution. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  27 

Under  these  circumstances,  Doctor  Havens  made  me 
the  offer  of  quarters  and  attendance  at  his  house,  until  my 
recovery.  I  accepted  his  offer,  and  was  removed  to  his 
house  accordinj^ly.  As  I  had  ever  been  averse  to  loading 
the  stomach  Avith  medicine  incases  of  sickness,  I  now  pur- 
sued the  same  course,  and  invariably  adhered  to  my  old 
maxim,  of  *'  giving  nature  her  way,"  until  the  ninth  day, 
when,  by  the  help  of  a  generous  constitution,  the  fever 
formed  a  crisis,  nature  predominated,  and  the  disorder 
abated.  Doctor  Havens  was  willing  to  give  himself  airs 
of  consequence  from  this  speedy  decision  in  my  favor,  al- 
though lie  had  only  given  me  two  potions  of  the  cortex  Pe- 
ru, and  that  after  the  fever  had  abated.  I  was  so  far  re- 
covered as  to  set  out  on  my  intended  journey  on  the  twelfth 
day  of  my  sickness,  much  against  the  advice  of  Doctor 
Havens.  Before  my  departure,  I  called  upon  the  Doctor 
for  my  bill  for  board,  attendance,  &c. ;  his  answer  was  to 
the  following  effect,  (viz.)  that  as  twenty  shillings  was  due 
to  me  from  him  for  schooling  his  children,  and  as  he  ex- 
pected to  send  thera  to  me  again,  at  Bridghampton,  and  to 
receive  special  attention  to  them  at  all  leisure  hours,  he 
would  rest  the  discharge  of  my  bill  upon  that  ground.  I 
acquiesced  with  his  proposal,  under  an  apprehension  of 
his  having  his  full  due  ;  the  price  of  boarding,  washing 
and  lodging  being  eight  shillings  per  week  ;  and  as  I  was 
at  the  Doctor's  two  weeks  only,  and  my  situation  such  as 
not  to  cause  a  great  degree  of  special  trouble,  I  considered 
the  addition  of  eight  shillings  more  per  week  to  be  a  full 
compensation  for  my  receipts.  Therefore,  as  his  bill  un- 
der this  settlement  would  amount  to  thirt}-two  shillings, 
there  Vvould  remain  a  balance  of  twelve  shillings  in  his  fa- 
vor, which  he  expected,  and  did  receive  by  my  extra  at- 
tention to  his  children  afterwards. 

I  was  somewhat  disappointed  when  I  called  upon  the 
Doctor  for  a  settlement.  By  the  course  of  his  conversa- 
tion, when  I  came  to  his  house,  he  clearly  intimated  that 
he  would  make  me  welcome  to  the  favor.  And  moreover, 
his  abundant  professions  of  friendly  attention  were  suffici- 
ent to  induce  me  to  expect  that  he  would  not  demand  pay 
for  my  boarding,  &sC.  j  considering -my  peculiar  situation. 


28  MEMOIRS  OF 

(he  being  a  man  himself  in  easy  circumstances)  and  the 
particular  and  pointed  declarations  of  friendly  assistance 
which  he  had  made,  almost  at  every  time  I  had  seen  him 
during  my  residence  on  the  island.  However,  I  esteem- 
ed his  demand  no  more  than  strictly  just,  and  considered 
his  calculations  to  befriend  me,  opert»ting  in  some  other 
channel,  to  which  I  had  not  yet  been  introduced. 
•  The  time  had  now  expired  in  which  I  was  to  begin  my 
school  ut  Bridghampton.  However,  I  could  not  recon- 
cile my  mind  to  the  idea  of  relinouishing  my  visit  to  my 
family  ;  and  accordingly  sent  oirword  that  sickness  had 
disenabled  me  from  opening  my  school  so  soon,  by  a  fort- 
night, as  my  engagement  had  speciiied.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances I  entered  on  board  the  bout  to  recross  the 
Sound  to  New-London,  having  given  the  pebple  to  un- 
derstand that  I  had  heard  oT'a  certain /)vm^  of  mine  be- 
ing son-ie  where  in  the  state  of  Mussachusetts,  to  whom  it 
"was  veiy  necessary  for  me  to  make  a  visit. 

I  was  entrusted  with  some  letters  to  a  gentleman  in 
New-London  ;  and  immediately  after  my  arrival  in  the 
city,  it  being  five  o'clock,  P.  M.  the  same  day,  I  set  about 
discharging  the  trust  by  delivering  the  letters.  When  I 
arrived  in  New-London,  I  felt  fearful  of  being  known,  and 
wished  to  be  seen  as  little  as  possible. 

The  reason  of  this  desire  was  of  the  following  nature, 
viz.  being  in  doubt  of  the  operation  which  a  knowledge  of 
my  real  character  would  have  upon  the  feelings  of  the 
people  where  I  had  engaged  to  teach  a  school ;  and  like- 
Y/ise  ignorant  of  the  representations  the  public  would 
ir^ake  on  that  head  ;  I  did  not  wish  yet  to  put  the  matter 
to  a  trial,  until  I  should  have  further  opportunity  to  estab- 
lish myself  in  the  place.  There  were  people  with  me 
from  Long-Island,  and  therefore  should  I  be  recognized 
by  any  in  New-London,  it  would  devclope  the  business 
immediately  to  those  who  were  with  me,  and  the  knowl- 
edge of  this  matter  would  reach  Bridghampton  previous 
to  my  return. 

Thus  stood  matters  in  New-London.  I  had  determin- 
ed to  deliver  the  letters  and  immediately  leave  the  town. 
I  accordingly  set  out  for  the  house  of  General  Hunting- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  %9 

ton,  the  gentleman  to  Avhom  the  letter  was  directed,  ir* 
company  with  one  of  those  who  came  with  mc  from  Long- 
Island.  This  companion  I  wished  handsomely  to  drop, 
but  found  myself  unable.  As  1  was  walking  through  the 
street,  I  observed  a  number  of  gentlemen  standing  toge- 
ther, and  observing  me  with  attention.  I  immedi;.tely 
concluded  that  I  was  discovered  and  known.  However, 
1  v.alked  by  without  appearing  to  ]]Otice  them  ;  when  I 
hcctrd  one  of  them  uttering  with  an  emphasis,  "  By  G — d 
it  is  Burroughs."  This  satisfied  me  as  to  the  truth  of  my 
first  conjecture.  I  wisi-^ed,  more  and  more,  rny  compan^- 
ion  gone  ;  but  to  no  purpose  :  he  stiil  remained  with  mc 
in  spite  of  all  my  efforts  to  the  contrary. 

1  found  that  those  who  had  observed  m.e  with  so  much 
attention,  were  following  after  mc,  and  continued  at  but  a 
short  distance,  until  I  came  to  the  house  of  General  Hun- 
tington. When  I  went  into  this  house,  they  made  a 
stand  in  the  street  before  the  door,  uniil  I  came  out ;  when 
they  immediateiy  came  up  to  me,  and,  in  the  hmguage  of 
friendship,  iiiquired  after  my  health.  I  was  agreeably  sur- 
prised to  find  two  of  my  college  class-mates  among  the 
number,  who  were  practising  attornies,  attending  the  Su- 
preme Court  sitting  in  New-London. 

When  they  accosted  me  by  my  name,  I  gave  them  to 
understand  they  were  mistaken.  The  greater  p  irt  un- 
derstood the  reply,  and  went  away  as  though  satisfied  with 
l^elng  convinced  of  their  mistake  ;  yet  one,  by  the  name 
of  Bulkley,  one  of  the  before  mentioned  college  class- 
mates, remained  firm  to  his  integriiy,  and  declared  that 
jje  fcneiu  it  to  be  me  :  "  that  he  thought  it  to  be  mc  before 
he  heard  me  speak  ;  but  since  then  was  entirely  certain." 
At  this  moment,  there  was  passing  by  a  man  by  the  name 
of  Hyde,  a  new  made  Justice  of  the  Peace,  belonging  to 
Norwich,  who  being  led  into  the  subject  by  Bulkley,  man- 
ifested an  ardent  desire  of  convincing  the  world  how^ 
prompt  he  was  in  the  execution  of  his  peace-ofiice.  He 
called  for  assistance,  laid  hold  of  me  by  their  help,  and 
conveyed  me  to  the  Attorney-General,  Mr.  Coit.  My 
companion  from  Long-Island  was  terrified  at  seeing  all 
this  ;  and  learning  nothing  more  th«m  that  I  had  changed 

VOL.    II.  D 


30  MEMOIRS  OF 

my  name,  he  came  up  to  me  with  a  woful  aspect  on  hi3 
countenance,  and  said,  "  A'nt  you  sorry  you  changed 
your  name  ?" 

The  others  who  had  first  accosted  me,  and  more   par- 
ticularly, William  Hart,  my  college   acquaintance,  con- 
cluding where   Hyde  and  his   gang  were  conveying  m.e, 
hastened  to  the  Attorney-General  before  we  arrived,  in 
■^ime  sufficient  to  give  him  a  just  statement  of  the  matter. 
When  we  arrived  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Coit,  I  found  a  large 
gathering  Already  there.     I  had  now  given  myself  over  as 
lost.     I  concluded  that  my  detention  and  reconveyance 
back  to  Worcester,  were  quite  certain.     The   extreme 
state  of  weakness  to  which  I  was  reduced  by  sickness  ren- 
dered the  prospect  of  escape  hopeless.     I  saw  the  rigor  of 
my  confinement  increased,  and  the  severity  of  my  punish- 
ment by  no  means   diminished.     I  saw   another  series  of 
cruel  sufferings  before  me,  of  which  I  could  not  even  con- 
jecture an  end.     Hyde  exulted  much  in  the  part  he  had 
acted,  concluding,  as  I  readily  understood,  from  his  con- 
versation, that  he  had  done  himself  immortal  honor.     He 
took  the  utmost  pains  to  exhibit  me  to  the  view  of  the  sur- 
lounding  spectators  as  a  monster  of  iniquity,  and  as  a  dev- 
il incarnate,  in  order  to  enhance  his  own  merit  in  the  act 
of  confining  me  from  society.      He  told  many  anecdotes 
reLting  to  me  ;  of  my  stealing  horses,  committing  rapes, 
&c   £cc.     With  all,  he  wound  up,  with  an  anecdote  of  his 
own  experience      "When  I  was  riding  through  the  state 
of  New-Hampshire,  some  years  since,"  said  Hyde,  "  I  saw 
a  man  standing  in  his  door  at  Charlestown,  who  took  me 
to  be  Burroughs.*     I  was  on  a  very  fine  horse,  and  the 
man  c.Jled  out  to  me,  Burroughs,  where  did  you  get  that 
horse  ?  I  made  no  answer,  but  rode  on  ;  when  the  man 
called  uL',ain,  Damn  you  Burroughs,  if  you  do  not  stop,  I 
viii  siop  you!  But  continuing  still  to  ride  on,  the  man  ran 
after  me,  and  overtook  me  ;  when  I  turned  about,  and  de- 
manded what  he  wanted.     The  man,  by  this,  discovering 
his  mistake,  begged  my  pardon,  observing,  I  thought  it 
•vras  one  Burroughs,  a  great  horse  thief;  and  1  have  no  no- 

*  jlisquu'e  Hyde  was  about  5  feet  8  inches  high. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS  31 

uon  of  being  stopped  as  I  ride  the  country  on  such  a  fel- 
low's account." 

After  Hyde  had  ended  his  harrangue,  the  Attorney- 
General  demanded  if  my  name  was  Burroughs.  I  told 
him  it  was.  He  enquired  further  if  I  had  been  confined 
in  Worcester  jail,  and  from  thence  had  made  my  escape. 
^ly  answer  was  in  the  affirmative.  He  then  demanded 
where  I  had  been  since  ;  what  doing,  where  going,  &c. 
To  which  I  gave  him  a  simple  statement  of  the  truth. 
He  then  made  a  reply  which  will  leave  a  grateful  monu- 
ment of  esteem  in  my  mind,  so  long  as  his  name  is  retain- 
ed in  my  powers  of  recollection.  "  Mr.  Burroughs,  we  in 
Connecticut  feel  ourselves  interested  in  the  fate  of  eve- 
ry man,  and  wish  him  to  be  happy  in  promoting  his  own 
good,  combined  with  that  of  society  ;  and  where  we  find 
him  making  that  his  object,  we  wish  to  assist  him  for- 
ward, rather  than  throw  any  obstacle  in  his  pursuit.  As 
this  appears  to  have  been  your  object  for  the  summer  past, 
and  as  you  are  still  inclined  to  pursue  it,  it  is  my  duty  to 
encourage  such  a  pursuit,  and  not  hinder  it ;  therefore 
you  may  consider  yourself  at  liberty  to  depart.  I  have 
heard  your  history.  I  have  been  made  acquainted  with 
your  trials  at  Worcester.  I  have  wished,  and  still  y/ish 
you  a  happier  lot." 

At  this  instant  I  felt  the  weight  of  a  mountain  removed 
from  my  mind.  All  the  horrid  prospects  of  confinement, 
punishment,  &c.  immediately  vanished.  The  sunsliine 
of  hope  burst  with  full  splendor  upon  my  soul,  and  filled 
me  with  so  great  a  measure  of  joy,  that,  in  m.y  debilitated 
situation,  it  almost  overpowered  my  strength  ;  and,  with 
difficulty,  I  prevented  myself  from  fainting.  Indeed,  sir, 
it  was  a  state  of  enjoyment  so  great  as  to  render  it  truly 
paitiful.  The  prospect  flashed  on  my  mind  the  idea  of 
aguin  enjoying  my  fi.mily,  connexions  and  societv ;  and 
the  possibility  of  maintt  ining  them,  by  my  industry,  with- 
out danger  of  being  interrupted. 

I  retuHiCd  to  Mr.  Coit  my  warmest  acknowledgments 
of  gratitude  for  his  humanity.  Yet  my  tongue  did  not 
utter  the  thousandth  part  of  what  my  heart  dictated.  I 
WIS  overcome.     A  universal    tremor  shook   my   frame; 


52  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  I  was  glad  of  a  momeni's  ease  by  retiring,  and  hiding 
my  feelings  in  my  own  bosom.  When  I  had  left  Mr. 
Colt,  and  arrived  at  the  Coffee-house  for  lodgings  over 
night,  I  found  there  my  Long-Island  companion,  who, 
finding  me  liberated  from  confinement,  began  to  think 
that  changing  one's  name  was  not  so  flagrant  a  violation  of 
the  laws  of  Connecticut  as  he  had,  at  first,  apprehended. 
I  stated  to  him  my  desire  that  he  would  not,  on  his  return, 
malce  any  mention  of  the  occurrence,  or  that  he  knew  any 
thing  relating  to  my  possessing  another  name.  He  prom- 
ised a  compliiince,,and  much  to  my  surprise,  kept  the  se- 
cret inviolate. 

Early  next  morning,  I  went  on  board  a  packet-boat  go- 
ing up  the  river,  tts  fdr  as  the  little  city  of  Norwich,  four- 
teen miles  directly  on  my  way  to  Charlton,  where  we  ar- 
rived about  noon.  After  our  amval,  I  immediately  set- 
out  on  foot,  and  reached  fourteen  miles  further  that  after- 
noon. I  put  up  at  a  house  where  the  people  were  strung- 
el's, v^s  !  then  ccnceivedj  in  the  town  of  C-iiuerbury.  Dur- 
ing the  course  of  the  evening,  by  some  conversation  that 
passed  in  the  family,  I  began  to  conjecture  that  I  w^as  in 
the  house  of  an  old  acGUiiintcince  of  my  father.  Previous 
jo  my  retiring  to  pedj  ^h^manyf  ^h?  Jipys^  Qam?  .liOnxe, 
wiio  WaS  Owtore  absent;  and  I  readily  recognized  the 
countenance  of  Doctor  Knight,  although  I  had  not  seen 
him  siiice  I  was  of  the  age  of  seveD,  being  about  the  space 
Oi"  twenty  years. 

The  Doctor  conducted  me  to  the  bed  where  I  was  to 
s,lcep,  and  I  embi^ced  that  oppoitunily  to  discover  my- 
self to  him,  hoping  to  gain  some  intelligence  which  might 
be  of  consequence,  either  rck.ting  to  my  family,  or  the 
pubjic  opinions  and  measures  which  had  i^een  taken  since 
I  left  tlve  'vountry.  1  was,  however,  unsuccessful  in  my 
cbject,  not  gaining  any  intelligence  upon  either  of  those 
piinlM.  I  arose  e^irly  next  morning,  i.nd  departed,  after 
bcinK  nvddG  welcom.e,  by  the  Doctor,  to  my  lodging. 

I  found  a  fever  perpetually  hanging  about  me,  and  the 
worry  of  travelling  constantly  increasing  it.  But  my  feel- 
ings  were  so  much  interested  in  pursuing  my  journey, 
thatn^v  judgment  had  lost  its  force  ;  and  I  travelled  with 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  o^ 

an  unabating*  diligence,  until  midnight,  when,  to  my  no 
small  satisfciciion,  I  arrived  to  the  abode  of  my  family. 
This  scene  I  shall  never  presume  to  describe.  Your  own 
fruitful  imagination  Avill  do  more  justice  to  the  subject 
than  is  possible  for  the  power  of  knguage  to  perform. 

I  tarried  here  two  days,  and  found  my  health  constantly 
declining.  I  began  to  grow  alarmed,  under  an  apprehen- 
sion that  I  mi'^-ht  have  a  severe  confinement  by  sickness 
in  this  place,  and  Ly  that  means,  be  discovered,  and  com- 
mitted to  Worcester  jail.  Therefore  I  procured  a  friend  to 
carry  me  on  horseback,  into  the  state  of  Connecticut, 
where  we  arrived  about  midnight,  at  the  house  of  a  distant 
relation  in  the  town  of  Tiiompson.  Here  I  tarried  until 
the  close  of  the  next  evening,  and  then  began  my  journey 
again  on  foot.  However,  I  found  my  weakness  sa  great,  I 
could  not  proceed  more  than  two  miles  that  night.  I'stop- 
ped  at  a  house  about  9  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  went  to 
bedimmedi-itely ;  but  found  little  rest  through  the  night. 
A  fit  of  the  fever  and  ague  came  on  me  ;  and  after  that  the 
sweat  poured  from  every  part  of  my  body  in  the  most  co- 
pious effusion.  In  the  morning  1  was  scarcely  able  to 
rise  from  my  bed.  However,  I  dressed  myself,  and  after 
procuring  horses,  I  ap:ain  set  off  for  Piainfield,  about  twelve 
miles  distant,  in  order  to  take  the  stap:e  from  thence  to 
Norwich.  I  arrived  here  about  noon,  but  so  very  weak 
th  't  I  was  under  tlwe  necessity  of  going  immediately  to  .bed. 
Indeed  my  disbrder  began  to  increase  so  rapixlly,  that  I 
pretty  much  despaired  of -returning  to  Long-Island  for 
the  present,  and  concluded  that  I  must  be  conni  ed  by  a 
fit  of  sickness.  A  fit  of  the  fever  and  ague  came  on  me 
again,  and  after  that  the  copious  discharge  of  sweat.  I 
felt  more  at  ease  when  the  sweat  had  ceased,  but  by  no 
means  strengthened.  However,  I  determined  to  set  for- 
ward again  at  the  arrival  of  the  stage.  "* 

About  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  took  a  seat  in  the 
stage,  and  set  off  for  Norwich.  I  found  in  the  stage  a  gen- 
tleman of  the  law  from  Boston,  tra\e!ling  to  the  west.  Af- 
ter some  introductory  conversation,  I  was  satisfied  that  I 
was  not  recognized  by  him,  although  we  had  formerly 
knpwa  each  other.  After  I  was  satisfied  in  this  respect, 
D  2 


34  jMemoirs  of 

T  gradu::IIy  introduced,  as  ihoug-h  by  accitlcnl,  the  topic  of 
conversation  wLich  lay  near  my  heart  (viz.)  the  sin.^ular 
trial  of  one  Burroughs,  at  the  sitting  of  the  Supreme  Court 
lit  Worcester  in  their  April  term.  I  manifested  some 
surprise  at  the  conducting  this  trial  by  the  court,  if  I  had 
been  rightly  informed  into  the  matter.  He  allowed  my 
information  to  be  correct,  but  defended  their  conduct  bv 
the  sin;;ulhrity  of  the  character  they  had  to  deal  with.  His 
ideas  upon  that  subject  were  of  the  following  nature,  a  iz. 

''  Thh  Burroughs  was,  of  all  characters  you  ever  heard, 
mention  mrde,  the  most  singular.  He  has  led  a  course 
of  the  most  barefaced  and  hori-id  crimes  of  any  man  linnp;, 
uv^n  from  his  childhood^  to  buch  a  degree,  that  his  own 
fdther  luis  desired  tl^.e  courts  to  shew  him  no  favor,  and 
^»ishes,  for  the  good  of  society,  to  have  him  confined  per* 
petually,  as  tlie  only  possible  means  to  prevent  that  course 
of  horrid  transgressions  which  he  has  perpetrated  ever 
since  he  has  been  capable  of  acting.  After  an  innumera- 
ble tri,in  of  iiistances  in  which  he  was  guilty  of  stealing, 
counterfeiting,  robbing,  adultery,  8cc.  &c.  he  was  appre- 
hended^and  sent  on  to  the  Cusllc.  In  this  situation,  as 
ihough  confinement  had  made  him  ten-fold  worse  than 
formerly,  he  often  threvv'  the  whole  garrison  into  a  stute  of 
alarm  ;  burnt  the  buildings  ;  wounded  the  soldiers,  some, 
it  was  supposed  mortally;  and  fioally  made  liis  escape. 
After  his  escape,  no  property  was  secure  from  his  grasp  ; 
no  virtue  was  proof  against  his  v.iles,  even  to  such  a  meas- 
ure that  he  became  a  general  nuisance  to  society ;  and 
the  country  arose  in  its  own  defence  and  confined  him  iii 
juil. 

*'  Such  a  character  you  will  not  wonder  was  very  ob- 
noxious to  the  court,  and  they  found  it  necesary  to  take 
the  most  decided  measures  to  bring  him  to  justice;  for 
even  under  this  loud  of  infamy,  he  bcid  planned  his  mat- 
ters with  that  address  and  dexterity,  by  means  of  the  tes- 
timony of  his  accomplices,  th  it",  with  the  utmost  difficulty, 
the  court  obtained  his  condemnation.  After  that  they  de- 
termined to  lay  a  sentence  upon  him  that  should  keep  him 
tonfir.ed  ior  o  long  time  ;  but  in  v-in.  He  soon  made  his 
escape,  ana  is  now  aciiiig  the  Sw-me  sceney  of  excess  ovev 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  :' 

attain.  Finally,  you  c&nnot  enter  into  the  merits  of  this 
trial,  so  as  to  understand  it  thoroughly,  unless  you  should 
become  really  acquainted  >vith  the  villain  ;  then  you 
•would  be  sensible  that  too  great  exertions  could  not  be 
made  against  him." 

The  can  iage  at  this  moment  broke  down  ;  and  all  the 
passengers  were  under  a  necessity  of  halting,  unul  anoth- 
er was  brought  to  take  them  up.  Under  this  situation, 
'SViliiam  Hart,  Esq.  came  riding  up,  and  saluted  me  by 
the  name  of  "•  Burroughs."  Aghast  and  astonished,  the 
poor  lawyer  rolled  his  eyeballs  in  wild  dismay.  The  ap- 
p::rition  of  Macbeth's  Ghost  would  not  have  been  so  ter- 
rible to  this  son  of  the  long  robe,  as  the  sight  of  that  iden- 
tical man,  whose  picture  i.-c  had  so  pleasir.gly  drawn.  "  Pie 
believed  he  could  walk  to  Norwich  much  easier  than  wait 
for  the  carriage."  He  made  his  obeisance  to  the  compa- 
ny, and  marched  off.  As  low  as  my  spirits  had  been  re- 
duced by  the  gloomy  prospects  presented  by  m.y  increas- 
ing sickness,  I  felt  them  exhilirbited  by  this  curious  cir- 
cumstance. I  laughed  aloud,  which  conveyed  the  sensa- 
tions of  my  heart  to  this  knight  of  romance  ;  but  he  did 
not  tarry  for  any  further  explanation.  He  pursued  his 
course  with  diligence,  and  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

We  were  directly  reseated  in  another  carriage,  and 
drove  on  with  speed  ;  but  did  not  overtake  our  lawyer.  He 
had  either  stopped  by  the  way,  or  made  greater  progress 
on  foot  than  is  common  for  men  who  arc  not  impelled  by 
extraordinary  motives. 

The  stage  set  me  dowTi  at  Norwich -Lai:iding,  and  con- 
tinued its  route  to  the  town.  This  night  I  found  the  fits 
of  fever  and  ague  increasing,  and  my  strength  continually 
abating.  The  next  morning  it  was  with  difficulty  I  reach- 
ed th«  boat  bound  to  Nev,-London,  where  we  arrived  about 
two  o'clock,  P.  M.  I  here  found  that  I  could  not  proceed 
any  further,  but  must  submit  to  the  force  of  sickness,  and 
lie  bv  until  I  should  be  better  able  to  move. 


36  MEMOIRS  OF 

CHAP.  III. 

J_  WILL  here  leave  the  course  of  my  journey,  and  go 
back  a  little,  to  take  notice  of  some  circumstances  neces- 
sary to  be  noted  in  order  for  you  to  entertain  a  clear  idea 
of  my  present  prospects,  and  future  hopes.  As  the  ob- 
ject of  making  provision  for  my  family  was  the  prevailinf^ 
wish  of  my  heart,  I  had  nattered  myself  that  the  salary 
which  I  should  receive  for  the  school  would  be  sufficient, 
with  close  economy,  to  support  us,  in  some  small  state  of 
comfort.  Under  this  view  I  had  proposed  the  plan  of 
moving  my  family  to  Long-Island  ;  but,  previous  to  such 
a  measure,  my  wife's  father  kad  agreed  to  make  me  a  vis- 
it, to  view  my  prospects,  and  then  determine  whether 
prudence  Avould  allow  of  such  an  attempt.  As  the  mon- 
ey which  I  was  to  receive  for  the  school  was  the  only  de- 
pendence which  I  had,  I  felt  not  very  sanguine  in  my 
hopes  at  this  time,  because,  as  long  as  I  should  remain 
sick  and  unable  to  teach  the  school,  I  was  earning  no 
money ;  and  was,  moreover,  involving  myself  in  debts 
which  most  be  discharged  with  the  first  money  I  could 
raise  from  my  labors.  My  sickness  would"  probably  pre- 
vent my  keeping  the  school  where  I  had  engaged,  as  the 
proprietors  wished  to  have  it  opened,  at  furthest,  by  that 
time,  and  I  had  presumed  already  to  overrun  it  by  a  fort- 
night. 

-I  was  confined,  by  sickness,  about  a  week  in  New-Lon- 
don, before  I  found  myself  recruited  in  any  measure.  As 
I  felt  extremely  anxious  to  gain  intelligence  relating  to 
the  school  in  Bridghampton,  a  matter  on  which  much 
depended  in  my  then  present  situation,  I  once  more  at- 
tempted to  cross  the  Sound.  I  found  the  motion  of  the 
boat  very  irksome  ;  and  before  I  had  reached  the  Long- 
Island  side,  I  was  again  attacked  M'ith  a  severe  visit  of  the 
fever  and  ague,  attended  with  the  most  violent  efi'usions  of 
sweat  immedititely  succeeding.  After  1  had  again  arriv- 
ed at  Sag-Harbor,  I  betook  myself  to  bed,  and  after  the 
space  of  five  or  six  hours  found  myself  so  far  recruited  as 
to  be  able  to  ride  to  Bridghampton.  When  I  arrived  at 
this  place,  I  found  they  hud  engaged  another  instructor 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  3^ 

dc^spairing  of  my  return,   and  he  had  appointed  the  day 
for  opening  the  school. 

This  circumstance  was  a  matter  of  great  disappoint- 
ment, inasmuch  as  I  could  not  proceed  further  for  want  of 
money  or  health.  I  represented  my  situation  of  distress 
to  the  person,  Johnson  by  name,  who  had  engaged  the 
school,  with  some  hope  that  he  would  relinquish  his  ap- 
pointment, and  look  for  another  situation  ;  but  all  to  no 
purpose.  He  remained  steadfast  in  his  resolution,  and 
till  entreaties  were  ineffectual.  I  now  concluded  my  la. 
bors  were  at  an  end  ;  that  I  had  nothing  left  but  to  wait 
l^atiently  the  time  of  my  exit  from  these  continued  scenes 
of  wo. 

"  Xor  dreadful  tlie  transition  ;  though  the  mindj 
An  artist  at  creatine  seif-alai-ms, 
Rich  in  expedients  for  inquietude, 
Is  prone  to  paint  it  di-eatlful.     Who  can  take 
Death's  portrait  true  ?  The  t\Tant  never  sat. 
Cur  sketch  all  random  strokes,  conjecture  all ; 
Close  shuts  the  grave,  nor  tells  one  single  U.\e. 
Death,  and  his  ima^,  rising  in  the  brain, 
Bear  faint  resemblance  ;  never  are  alike  ; 
Fear  shocks  the  pencil ;  fancy  loves  excess 
Dark  ignorance  is  lavish  of  her  shades  ; 
Anil  tlir.^^  tlii^r.i.'iviiJi^ble.  nl.j.vur.^  *.l'hW^.'* 

In  this  situ.ition  I  lay  two  days,  unable  to  rise  from  my 
bed.  I  found  the  people  in  this  place  desirous  of  my  in- 
structing their  school,  if  they  could  by  any  means  get  rid 
of  their  engagement  with  Johnson.  They  had  formed  a 
favorable  idea  of  my  performance  in  that  line  by  the  char- 
acter I  had  sustained  in  that  cap..city  on  Shelter-Island, 
the  phce  being  only  five  miles  distant,  and  Johnson  being 
jt  totul  stranger  in  the  country.  Therefore  the  people  of 
tins  district  sent  to  arjother  part  of  the  town,  who  wei  e 
destituie,  and  wanted  a  schoolmaster,  informing  them  that 
one  was  to  be  had  by  applying  immediately,  and  mention- 
ed Johnson  as  the  person.  It  was  likewise  mentioned  to 
him  that  application  would  be  made  from  another  part  of 
the  town,  ivhere  the  presumption  was  much  stronger  in 
his  favor  for  high  wages,  £cc.  Johnson  eagerly  swallowed 
this  L^it,  and  accepted  tlie  invitation  immediately  after  it 


38  MEMOIRS  OF 

was  given.  The  committee  who  were  appointed  for  this 
purpose,  learning,  however,  that  there  Avas  another  person 
present,  who  was  a  candidate  for  a  schoolmaster,  and  who 
they  found,  was  to  teach  the  school  in  the  middle  district, 
provided  they  could  get  Johnson  off  their  hands,  began  to 
query  about  the  proprietv  of  having  the  choice  themselves 
rather  than  the  middle  district,  seeing  Johnson  was  al- 
ready engagad.  This  motion,  I  found,  by  no  means  com- 
porting with  the  feelings  of  Johnson,  or  the  people  of  the 
middle  district.  He  wished  to  take  the  wc-stern  school, 
and  the  people  of  the  middle  district  wished  the  same-. 
This  produced  a  warm  altercation  between  the  two  com- 
mittees ;  but  they  finally  agreed  upon  me  as  the  person 
to  decide  the  contest ;  and  I  chose  to  abide  where  I  was. 
Tliis  accordingly  settled  the  dispute.  What  influenced  my 
choice  was.  the  solicitation  of  Johnson,  who  was  now  as 
anxious  to  leave  this  situation,  as  I  was  the  day  before  to 
have  him. 

In  a  few  days,  I  was  so  far  recovered  as  to  begin  my 
scliool.  My  health,  however,  was  so  low  as  obliged  me 
frequently  to  lay  it  by,  sometimes  for  the  space  of  half  a 
day,  and  sometimes  for  a  whole  day.  As  this  was  a  stage 
\i}.on  wliicli  sor«;e-  &f-  tluj  n:;ci:t  surprising  transactions 
were  performed  of  any  I  have  met  with,  it  v.ill  be  neces- 
sary to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  leading  churacters  of  this 
have  him. 

And  I  will  begin  v.irh  a  person  that  will  appear  most 
frequently,  and  who  perfornjed  the  most  conspicuous  part 
in  those  matters  pa'-ticularly  relating  to  me,  viz.  Rev.  Aa- 
ron Woohvorth.  Ho  was  a  clergyman,  settled  in  the 
ministoiul  olTice  at  Bridghampton,  and  who  resided  near 
me,  during  my  continuance  in  this  place.  This  man  wi,s 
about  the  i.ge  of  eight  and  twenty;  had  been  the  preaclier 
to  this  people  about  six  years  ;  had  a  wife  and  three  chil- 
dren. His  v.ife  was  the  daughter  of  the  aged  and  vener- 
bie  Doctor  EucI,  minister  of  East-Hampton,  a  town  ad- 
joiniuf^:;  and  was,  like  her  father,  a  person  of  a  good  nat- 
ural disposition,  although  possessing  moderat«  abilities. 
Mr.  Woohvorth  was  of  small  stature,  diniir.utive  in  his 
iippearancc,    his    fe:Uures   somewhat  irregular,  but    his 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS,  39 

countenance  displaying  a  great  share  of  vivacity  and  spir- 
it. His  voice  in  conversation  and  in  preaching  was  harsh 
and  unharmonious.  His  gestures  and  deportment,  at  first 
view,  were  somewhat  awkward  and  clumsy;  but  beyond 
this  veil  was  soon  discovered  a  pleasing  companion,  and 
interesdng  associate.  His  genius  was  brilliant ;  his  mind 
was  active  and  full  of  enterprise.  As  a  reasoner,  he  was 
close  and  metaphysical,  but  as  a  declaimer,  he  was  bung- 
ling and  weak.  His  passion  for  an  unlimited  influence 
over  the  minds  of  his  parishioners  was  so  great,  that  every 
other  feeling  fell  a  sacrifice  to  it.  Any  circumstance  that 
obstructed  this  favorite  motive  he  sought  to  remove,  be 
the  consequences  what  they  might.  He  was  impatient^ 
of  contradiction,  and  easily  irritated.  He  had  a  thirst  for 
associating  with  such  characters  as  were  rich,  or  who 
even  made  a  splendid  appearance  ;  hence  his  intimate  as- 
sociates were  the  following  characters,  viz.  Deacon  Hed- 
ges, a  man  of  extensive  property,  of  small  abilities,  either 
natural  or  acquired ;  the  whole  of  his  information  being 
'comprised  in  his  own  circle  of  properly.  This  man  was 
avaricious  in  the  extrelne,  sordid  and  clownish.  \^et  no 
man  made  more  flaming  pretensions  to  the  exercises  of 
religion  them  lie.  He  ever  took  the  lead  in  public  worship 
in  the  absence  of  the  clergyman.  One  would  draw  the 
idea  from  his  prayers,  that  he  really  was  but  a  sojourner 
in  this  world,  seeking  for  another  and  better  country  ;  and 
that  he  viewed  all  things  in  it  as  dross  and  dung.  Yet  to 
see  the  same  man,  on  another  day,  one  would  be  led  to 
conclude  that  this  world  was  his  god,  and  its  goods  his  in- 
heritance. I  will  relate  one  or  two  anecdotes  concerning 
this  man,  and  pass  from  the  disagreeable  picture. 

At  a  certain  time,  a  man  from  New-York  had  bargain- 
ed for  all  the  cheese  belonging  to  Deacon  Hedges,  at  the 
price  of  six  pence  the  pound,  and  had  paid  him  some  earn- 
est money,  but  had  not  taken  the  cheese  away.  A  few 
days  after,  another  man,  on  the  same  business,  called  on 
the  Deacon,  and  off'ered  him  seven  pence  per  pound.  The 
Deacon  seemed  somewhat  embarrassed,  and  to  hesitate  ; 
but  finally  told  the  man  that  his  cheese  was  all  engaged. 
Upon  which  the  man  was  retiring,  but  the  Deacon  observ- 


40  MEMOIRS  OF 

ed,  before  he  had  left  the  house,  that  it  was  possible  Mrs. 
Hedges  might  have  some  cheese  for  sale.  The  man 
stopped,  and  the  Deacon  went  into  another  room,  where 
he  remained  some  time  ;  and  at  length  Mrs.  Hedges  made 
her  appearance,  and  sold  three  thousand  weight  of  cheese 
for  seven  pence  per  pound  ;  and  when  the  other  man  call- 
ed for  his  cheese,  the  Deacon  had  but  two  hundred  and 
fifty  weight  that  he  could  possibly  spare. 

At  a  certain  time  the  Deacon  was  sick,  and  apparently 
nigh  unto  death.  Under  this  situation  he  was  visited  by  a 
Jew,  who  bore  him  no  very  great  affection  ;  and  was  ask- 
ed whether  he  felt  himself  willing  to  submit  to  the  stroke 
of  death.  To  which  the  Deacon  very  readily  answered 
in  the  affirmative.  "  Vel,  vel,''  said  the  Jew,  "  you  be 
one  very  remarkable  man.  You  be  villing  to  die  your- 
self, and  all  your  neighbors  be  viliing  you  should." 

Judge  Hurlbut  occupied  the  second  place  in  Mr.  Wool- 
worth's  esteem.  This  man  likewise  wl-.s  a  person  of  very 
moderate  abilities,  full  of  religious  professions,  but  not  sO' 
careful  to  commend  himself  to  the  consciences  of  others 
for  his  honesty,  us  many  who  made  no  cloak  of  religion  to 
cover  a  base  heart. 

Sometime  in  the  course  of  last  war,  he  was  appointed 
an  agent  for  the  crew  of  a  privateer  sailing  out  of  New- 
London,  to  sell  the  prizes,  divide  the  money.  Sec.  This 
circumstance  placed  property  in  his  hands  to  considerable 
amount.  At  the  close  of  the  war,  he  left  New-London, 
came  to  Long-Island,  purchased  a  farm,  erected  hand- 
some buildings,  and  lived  in  a  state  of  splendor  for  a  while. 
But  after  I  had  lived  on  the  isbnd  for  the  space  of  two 
years,  the  ov.ners  of  the  privateer  began  to  lay  claim  to 
the  property  he  had  made  use  of,  belonging  to  them  ;  and 
he  was  obliged  to  relinquish  his  farm,  building?^,  ^c.  and 
retire  into  obscurity,  to  support  himself  by  the  exercise 
of  his  trade,  being  educated  a  saddler.  With  all  this  h^ 
did  not  by  any  means  discharge  his  debts. 

Capt.  Post  was  the  third  man  who  made  his  appearance 
in  this  group.  He  had  commanded  a  privateer  during  the 
war ;  but  had  not  been  very  successful  in  his  enterpiises, 
owing  to  an  extraordinary  degree  of  caution  not  to  be 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  11 

drawn  into  an  ambuscade  by  any  vessel  he  might  chance 
to  spy  during^  his  cruising.  Towards  his  own  men  he  was 
courageous  in  the  extreme,  if  tyranny  and  barbarity  are 
marks  of  courage.  Towards  the  enemy  his  heroism  was 
not  so  clearly  established,  owing  to  his  great  caution  not  to 
be  thrown  into  the  way  of  its  being  put  to  the  trial.  How- 
ever, some  small  prizes  fell  into  his  hands  ;  and  it  was  cur- 
rently reported  that,  at  least,  his  own  share  of  these  prizes 
came  to  his  possession,  besides  some  small  donations  from 
the  private  property  of  the  officers  who  fell  under  his  power. 

At  the  close  of  the  war,  he  found  himself  able  to  pur- 
chase, in  company  with  two  others,  a  brig  of  about  1 50  tons 
burden,  in  which  he  followed  the  West-India  trade.  It 
happened  surprisingly,  that  in  every  voyage,  he  involved 
his  owners  in  debt,  but  grew  rich  himself.  This  scene 
continued  until  one,  more  wary  than  the  other,  gave  up  the 
use  of  his  part  of  the  brig,  and  refused  to  assist  in  fitting 
her  out  any  more.  Notwithstanding,  the  other  owner  con- 
tinued his  aid,  until  he  became  bankrupt ;  and  Capt.  Post 
yet  remained  possessed  of  a  considerable  farm,  and  the 
most  elegant  buildings  of  any  in  the  country.  The  brig 
was  then  sold,  and  the  avails  divided  among  the  several 
o\vners.  Capt.  Post  descended  from  parentage  extreme- 
ly low  and  poor  ;  accordingly  his  education  was  rough  and 
uncouth.  Yet  he  possessed  a  strong  desire  to  be  thought 
a  man  of  information  and  importance.  This  frequently 
led  him  to  tell  large,  pompous  stories,  of  which  himself 
was  ever  the  hero.  He  was  a  great  swaggerer  over  those 
whom  he  found  calculated  to  bear  it ;  but  to  others  he  was 
supple,  cringing,  and  mean.  A  man  using  the  most  rough, 
uncouth,  and  blasphemous  language  before  those  whose 
good  opinion  he  did  not  wish  to  retain. 

Surprising  as  it  may  seem,  thch;e  three  were  the  most 
intimate  companions  with  whom  Mr.  Woolworth  perpe- 
tually associated  ;  which  you  will  consider  as  being  no  very 
strong  mark  of  his  prudence,  let  his  taste  be  ever  so  vi- 
tiated, or  assimilated  to  such  company.  Having  complet- 
ed the  picture  of  the  four  principal  characters,  it  will  be 
only  necessary  to  give  a  slight  sketch  of  a  few  others, 

VOL.  II.  E 


4^  MEMOIRS  OF 

Doctor  Rose,  who  kept  a  house  of  entertainment,  was 
better  fitted,  by  nature  and  acquirement,  for  a  printer,  than 
either  for  a  physician  or  tavern-keeper  ;  being;  the  best 
calculated  to  gather  and  distribute  neivs  of  any  man  I  ev- 
er knew.  He  was  a  man  of  very  superficial  aljilities  in  his 
professional  character  ;  a  professed  friend  to  every  one, 
but  sincere  to  none  ;  versatile  and  unstable  in  his  disposi- 
tion, and  a  libertine  in  practice. 

Ellas  Halsey,  one  amongst  many  of  the  same  name,  was 

u  person   descended   from  a   family  in  moderate  circum- 

•  t.mces,  who  pursued  a  system  of  industry  and  economy, 

iiereby  obtaining  a  comfortable  support.     His  education 

.as  not  great ;  and  his  opportunities  for  learning  men  and 

-anners  were  small :  notwithstanding  which,  he  had  a 

cuius  which  v,\;s  brilliant,  and  a  great  thirst  for  informa- 

.■on.     He  was  a  person  of  keen  feelings,  hasty   passions, 

..ud  a  good  heart.     The  turbulence  of  his  passions  often 

.ed  him  astray  in  the  exercise  of  his  goodness.     He  failed 

in  system,  c>.nd  of  course,  was  not  always  stable. 

De&con  Cook  was  the  leading  character  of  a  small  soci- 
ety in  this  place,  denominated  Separates.  Betw  een  these 
two  societies  there  was  the  greatest  animosity ;  and  as 
Deacon  Cook  was  the  principal  member  of  the  Separates, 
the  other  party  blackened  his  character  with  the  vilest  ep- 
ithets that  language  could  utter.  He  was  an  old  gentle- 
man, treadin^-^  hard  upon  eighty.  Time  had  brightened 
l)is  locks  with  pure  silver ;  but  his  age  was  no  protection 
from  the  tongue  of  slander.  As  the  line  of  his  conduct 
Avhich  was  open  to  my  view,  gave  me  a  far  different  idea 
of  his  character,  so  the  facts  to  be  related  hereafter  will 
form  data  lor  your  opinion  in  relation  to  the   same  matter. 

The  character  of  the  people  in  this  place  was  of  the 
follov.ing  description,  viz.  uniform,  contracted,  and  unin- 
formed. Economy  was  practised  here,  upon  the  closest 
svstem,  by  far,  of  any  with  which  I  was  ever  acquainted. 
Necessity,  in  a  measure,  produced  this  effect.  The  peo- 
ple wore  so  extremely  attached  to  their  own  modes  c^nd 
customs,  that  it  produced  a  fonrucss-  for  their  own  socie- 
ty una  disrelish  to  other  customs,  oeyond  paralle!  ;  hence 
emigration  from  their  internal  population   was  less  frc- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  4:. 

qiient  here,  than  in  places  elscu' here.  Therefore  the 
country  had  become  populous,  and  the  soil  so  eyhuustedas 
not  to  be  luxurir.nt.  The  land  was  pjenerally  divided  into 
bmuU  parcels  amongst  the  proprietors,  from  ibriy  to  ten 
acres.  Under  these  circumstances,  rather  than  emigrate 
iato  those  parts  where  land  was  in  greater  plenty,  they 
contented  themselves  with  living  close,  poor,  an-l  careful. 
Notwithstanding,  they  were  a  people  under  thriving  cir- 
cumstances, every  one  living  wiii.in  his  income,  be  it  ever 
so  small ;  and  their  poor-tax  Wc*s  the  smallest,  for  so  pop- 
ulous a  place,  of  any  on  the  continent.  Could  useful  man- 
ufactories be  introduced,  and  three  quarters  of  the  inhabi- 
tants turn  their  attention  to  them,  retaining  their  industry 
and  economy,  I  do  not  know  the  place  where  they  could 
be  made  more  profitable,  as  labor  and  provisions  are  ex- 
tremely cheap  for  cash.  The  means  for  acquiring  proper- 
ty here  are  few,  and  very  simple  ;  no  mechanical  brunches 
being  pursued,  but  barely  to  answer  the  necessities  of  the 
inhabitants,  such  as  shoe-making,  tailoring,  and  blvtci^- 
smithing  ;  all  other  pursuits  being  common  hand  labor. 

This  people  are  at  the  lowest  ebb  in  their  improve- 
ments, either  in  agriculture,  manufacture,  or  domestic 
economy.  They  are  the  genuine  picture  of  ancient  times, 
when  their  land  was  first  settled  by  its  whiie  iiihabitants. 
Tliesc  eifects  are  produced,  in  a  great  degree,  by  their  in- 
sular situation.  .         .  ' 

Among  these  people  I  was  about  beginning  my  career 
again  upon  the  active  stage  of  life  ;  and  to  establish  a  line 
of  bushiess  which  should  render  me  a  support  for  myself 
and  family.  I  accordingly  commenced  my  operations  un- 
der such  circumstances  us  will  better  appear  to  you  from 
what  I  have  related,  than  by  what  I  can,  by  any  other  means, 
describe.  I  had  not,  at  best,  any  gUaing  prospect  of  ac- 
cumulating an  hidependent  property. 

After  I  had  pursued  the  business  of  instruciinn-  this 
school  about  three  weeks,  my  wife's  father,  according  to 
ifeieement,  came  to  Bridghampton.  My  school  at  this 
time  was  crowded  with  scholars,  and  the  prospects  v/ere 
fair  ;  yet  my  name  and  character  were  veiled  in  secvecy, 
and  what  would  be  the  event  of  the  disclosure  of  tlui.i....- 


ii  MEMOIRS  OF 

ter  was  still  a  doubt ;  and  to  remove  my  family  to  Bridg- 
hampton  must,  in  its  natural  effect,  finally  reveal  it. 
Therefore  it  was  thought  best  for  my  father-in-law  to  lay 
open  this  circumstance,  together  with  my  general  histo- 
ry, to  the  people,  in  order  to  see  its  operation,  previous  to 
my  family'^s  coming  to  me.  Accordingly  we  pitched  up- 
on Mr.  Woolv/orth  as  a  proper  person  to  whom  we  should 
unfold  thii  matter,  and  consult  him  further  what  was  to 
be  done. 

Wc  accordingly  waited  on  Mr.  WooIvYorth,  to  whom  I 
introduced  my  father,  and  left  them  together.  I  tanied 
away  about  t\vo  hours,  and  then  returned  ;  and  found  that 
the  whole  matter  had  been  laid  open,  to  which  Mr.  Wool- 
v/orth had  given  a  favorable  ear  ;  and  promised  his  assis- 
hince  during  the  time  I  should  choose  to  remain  among 
his  people.  His  influence,  I  knew,  was  weighty,  and 
woiild  be  of  the  utmost  consequence.  It  was  thought  best 
to  cati  a  meeting  of  the  proprietors  of  the  school  that 
evening,  and  for  Mr.  Woolworth  to  be  present,  and  la 7 
open  the  Avhole  matter  to  them.  This  plan  was  accord- 
ingly put  into  execution,  and  the  most  favorable  conse- 
quences apparently  produced. 

However,  I  found  that  the  world  was  in  a  state  of  fer- 
ment, at  the  recital  of  tliis  strange  news.  The  people  on 
Shelter-Island  had  found  themselves  throwp  out  in  all  their 
conjectures.  Uncle  Jim  was  abashed  ;  Doctor  Havens 
was  confounded.  Judge  Havens  was  the  only  man  who 
appeared  unmoved  in  the  general  tumult.  A  letter  I  re- 
ceived a  few  days  after  will  give  you  a  better  idea  of  the 
matter,  than  any  thing  else.*     This  was  a  fine  subject  foy 

jXov.  14th,  1791. 

*SlH, 

I  have  thought  that  it  would  not  be  uninteresting  or  disagreeable 
to  you  to  receive  some  account  of  a  remarkable  event  which  hath 
happened  here  since  yoa  left  us.  You  must  know  tliat,  not  long 
since,  a  remarkable  phenomenon  appeared  within  our  hemisphere. 
But  this  was  not  any  thing  which  was  to  be  seen  in  the  starry  heav- 
ens ;  but  was  confined  altogether  to  our  mother  earth,  and  partook 
of  the  moral  world  as  well  as  tiie  natural  ,•  and  was  conveyed  to  us 
by  water;  and  might  properly  be  designated  by  the  term  charac- 
ter i  the  particulars  of  which  I  will  detail  to  you.. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  45 

the  relish  of  Doctor  Rose.  He  had  full  employ  for  a 
number  of  days,  and  actually  grew  fleshy  under  the  pleuh- 
in,^  effect.     People   flocked  to  his  house  for  information. 

He  was  the  son  of  a  clergyman  of  reputation,  and  bom  in  Leaden- 
hall-street  in  London  ;  and  received  his  education  in  the  London 
schools,  where  he  was  taug-ht  Latin,  Enghsh  £;rammar,  aritliir.etic, 

and  various  other  br?.nches  of  science  ;  was  patronised  by  Mr. , 

a  gentleman  of  gi'cat  distinction  in  that  city,  and  who  represented 
the  city  in  Parliament ;  and  had  lived  six  yeai-s  in  a  compting--house, 
with  merchants  who  carried  on  the  Russia  trade  ;  and  at  some  time 

in  the  late  American  war,  his  worthy  triend  and  patron,  Mr. , 

had  entered  into  tlie  laudable  scheme  of  attempting,  in  some  de- 
gree, to  emancipate  the  Irish,  and  relieve  them  from  the  iiitolera- 
ble  burden  of  the  British  yoke ;  and,  to  effect  this  purpose,  had 
written  a  pamphlet,  enti'ded,  "  The  political  necromancer,  or  the 
popish  plot  detected,"  which  he,  the  above  mentioned  character, 
had  copied  off  in  his  o>^'n  hand  writing-,  and  had  privately  caused 
fifty  thousand  copies  of  it  to  be  printed  and  dispersed  all  over  Ire- 
land ;  which  had,  m  a  ^eat  measure,  the  desired  effect.  The  Irish 
were  roused,  and  the  English  obliged  to  mrike  concessions.  This 
conduct  had  greatly  incensed  the  British  ministry.  The  pamphlet 
wr.s  deemed  a  libel ;  and  the  author  of  it,  when  discovered,  v.'as 
sure  to  suffer  the  utmost  vengeance  of  the  British  government.  For 
a  long  time  this  remained  undiscovered,  but  was  at  last  disclosed 
by  a  journeyman  printer ;  and  our  character  was  obliged  suddenly 
to  leave  his  nearest  and  dearest  connexions,  and  take  refuge  in  a. 
foreign  country,  to  save  his  worthy  triend  and  patron.     Chance 

throwed  him  in  the  way  of  his  friend  Capt. ,  who  brought  him 

out  to  Nova-Scotia,  where  a  thousand  guineas  reward  V\-ere  offered 
for  him  by  the  governor.  But  his  irieud  provided  means  to  eonvey 
him  privately  by  water  into  tlie  American  lines.  Here  he  suffered 
a  dismal  disaster ;  for  the  Captain  who  was  desired  to  do  this,  be- 
haved like  a  villain,  and  robbed  him  of  his  chest,  in  which  were  all 
his  clothes  and  money,  and  in  particular  some  bills  of  exchange  on 
a  noted  house  in  Baltimore  ;  and  then  sat  him  on  shore,  forlorn  and 
destitute;  and,  to  add  to  his  afflictions,  he  was  obliged,  the  ensu- 
suing  night,  to  walk  thirty  miles  tlirough  mud  and  mire  barefoot- 
ed, and  in  a  dreary  dismal  way,  to  avoid  a  horrid  plot  whicii  had 
been  laid  to  entrap  him.  He  was  convt}  ed  from  thence  by  a  friend- 
ly Captain,  to  Riiode-Island,  and  had  now  taken  slielter  in  our  Isle, 
a.nd  wished  our  protection  and  friendship.  To  some  of  his  more 
intimate  ti-iends,  he  hinted  that  he  had  left  Ixhind  him  in  Eiigland, 
a  connexion  of  the  tenderest  kind,  a  young  lady  of  the  mcst  amiible 
qualities  and  exalted  virtues,  with  v.iiom  he  v,  as  on  the  eve  of  a 
marriage.  To  this  account  I  will  add  some  description  of  his  per- 
son. He  was  tall,  handsome,  genteel  and  agreeable  in  conversation 
tiid  maimers  ;  appeared  to  be  a  rnan  of  leading  and  extensive  inibr- 


46  MEMOIRS  OF 

He  was  never  weary  in  statincj  in  order,  in  opening  and 
expounding,  the  whole  of  the  news  on  this  extraordin:iry 
circumstance.  Notwithstanding  my  school  flourished, 
and  all  thirif^-s  seemed  to  subside  into  a  peaceful  calm. 

mution  ;  was  well  acquainted  with  the  world ;  and  the  natural  en- 
dowment of  his  mind  appeared  to  be  such  as  might  render  him  an 
ornament  to  the  country  in  which  he  lived,  and  a  useful  citizen.  To 
the  public  he  appeared  in  the  double  capacity  of  die  Philanthropist ^ 
calling-  upon  all  mankind  "  to  co-operate  with  him,"  in  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  principle  of  universal  benevcsience,  on  the  ruins  of 
superstition;  and  of  an  Obsen-er,  to  support  his  works  ag-ainst  the 
rude  assaults  of  criticism.  Various  was  the  opinion  of  the  public 
concerning-  this  character ;  some  supposed  it  not  at  all  founded  in 
truth.  All  seemed  to  entertain  suspicion.  For  my  own  part,  I 
reasoned  on  the  subject  to  myself,  and  said,  "It  cannot  surely  be 
possible  that  so  many  natural  endowments  should  be  wholly  desti- 
tute of  the  moral  sense  ;  but  perhaps  the  truth  may  be,  that  he  is 
some  person  of  our  countr}'',  who  hath  been  to  Eng'land,  and  hala 
left  it  suddenly  on  account  of  some  swindlin.^  trick."  But  in  the 
midst  of  this  variety  of  speculations  upon  a  character  so  new  and. 
extraordinary,  how  sudden  and  surprising-  the  change  !  Fame  open- 
ed one  of  the  doors  of  her  temple,  and  from  the  north-eastei'n  cor- 
ner of  our  hemisphere,  blasted  upon  him  with  her  trumpet,  and  sud- 
denly this  plessing-  character  "vanished  like  the  baseless  fabric  of 
a  vision,"  and  in  its  room  was  exhibited  another  of  the  most  hide- 
ous kind !  A  thou.sand  rumors  floated  upon  a  thousand  tongues,  and 
e\ery  one  of  these  v/as  infamy  !  He  had  committed  a  rape  !  had 
counterfeited  money!  was  a  notorious  cheat;  was  a  liar;  was  a 
rascal ;  v/as  a  villain  !  had  committed  theft ;  had  stolen  a  watch 
and  suit  of  clo'.hes  from  a  clergyman ;  had  dared  to  assume  the  sa- 
cred function  wlien  he  was  unworthy :  murder  and  sodomy  were 
alone  excepted  from  the  black  catalogu3  of  his  crimes.  I  have 
heai'd  of  Iwm  before,  said  one ;  I  know  all  about  him,  says  another ; 
his  whola  life  has  been  one  series  of  enormity,  cries  a  third ;  he  has 
been  disgraced  by  his  public  punishments  as  well  as  his  crimes, 
says  a  fourth.  Li  the  midst  of  this  uproar,  being  actuated  by  the 
principles  of  philanthropy,  and  from  a  conviction  that  he  had  not 
3'et  abandoned  himself,  I  determined  to  stand  the  poor  man's  friend 
Ln  the  hour  of  his  distress  and  ci  lamity.  Stop,  gentlemen,  say  I,. 
'^tay  your  rage  ;  pray  hea)keii  to  reason.  The  devil  is  not  so  bad 
';  his  picture. — "  liut  he  has  committed  a  rape  certainly,"  says  one. 
Not  quite  so  bad  neilhc)-,"  say  I,  (and  then  endeavor  to  extenu- 
ate it  by  saying  that  it  did  not  amount  to  a  force,  and  that  I  under- 
stood that  the  young  woman  sv/ore  falsely  to  piaster  over  her  repu- 
tation)— "^  But  he  has  counterfeited  money,  and  been  a  notorious 
cheat,'*  says  another.  "  Something  of  this  kind  has  perhaps  hap- 
n'.-ned,"  hfy  J,   "  but  this  ^v;;s  owing  to  his  ei.treme  necessities,' 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  47 

At  this  time  I  had  in  money  but  one  half  dollar,  and  no 
other  property  to  help  myself,  excepting  the  anticipdtion 
of  my  wages.     With  this  I  hired  a  house  for  my  family, 

*^  The  rascal  has  called  himself  an  Englishman  all  this  while,"  say» 
a  third.  "  He  only  forgot  to  insert  the  word  rzet:',"  say  I ;  "  lie  is  a. 
New  Englishman." — "  The  villain  has  altered  his  name,"  says  a 
fourth.  "  He  sprung  from  Eden,"  say  I,  "  and  therefore  may,  with 
propriety  enough,  be  called  Eden's  son."  "  He  is  a  d — d  liar/* 
cries  one,  "  his  head  is  a  perfect  magazine  of  lies." — "  You  ought 
to  consider  that  having  laid  a  wrong  fomidation,  when  he  came  to 
build  up  his  superstructure  upon  it,  and  embellish  the  building,  and 
ornament  it  in  all  its  parts,  these  must  necessarily  be  wrong  like- 
wise." To  one  and  all  I  say,  "  the  gentleman  has  been  hi  a  wrong 
road  for  some  time ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  he  has  turn- 
ed short  about,  and  has  now  come  mto  the  right  path ;  he  is  no\r 
at  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  pray  give  the  man  a  chance  to  come  up 
again,  and  get  upon  a  level  with  his  fellow-citizens."  By  argu- 
ments like  these,  at  one  time  facetious,  at  another  time  serious,  I 
endeavor  to  smooth  over  every  difficulty,  and  make  every  circum- 
stance appear  as  favorable  as  possible.  This,  I  think,  is  acting  ac- 
cording to  the  true  principles  of  benevolence  and  phiiantliropy  f  and 
I  doubt  not  that  m  future  he  will  "  co-operate  ^^•ith  me"  to  render 
these  exertions  in  his  favor  of  the  most  lasting-  benefit  to  himself, 
and  to  his  nearest  and  dearest  connexions.  You  will  perhaps  won- 
der v/hy  I  should  so  far  interest  myself  in  this  person's  good  or  ill 
fortune.  This  requires  some  explanation.  You  must  know  then, 
that  the  secret  of  his  birth  and  character  was,  by  a  private  commu- 
nication, made  known  unto  me  for  a  long-  time  before  it  was  known 
in  this  part  of  the  countrj-.  It  was  evening  when  I  first  received 
this  intelligence,  and  notwithstanding  my  former  suspicions,  T  wsls 
struck  with  grief  and  astonislim.ent.  How,  said  I,  art  thou  fall',; .,  ijw- 
fallen  like  lightning  from  heaven,  O  Lucifer,  son  of  the  momhig!  ' 
All  thy  anxieties  and  fear  lest  Sir  John  Temple  should  discover  thv 
being  in  this  country,  are  no  more !  No  longer  shalt  thou  dread  the 
uirJice  and  persecution  of  thy  British  enemi--:3 !  No  longer  shalt 
thou  dread  the  effects  of  a  British  outlawr\'!  The  doctrine  con- 
cerning libels  shall  no  longer  prove  thy  ruin !  The  mighty  fabric 
which  thy  imagination  hath  been  so  long  building,  shall  soon  van- 
ish, like  the  morning  dream,  and  pass  away,  with  the  years  beyond 
the  flood.  How  will  the  so7is  and  daughters  of  the  uncircumcised 
triumph  when  they  come  to  hear  of  this  !  Tell  it  not  in  Gath  !  Pub- 
lish it  not  m  Askelon !  With  thoughts  and  reflections  like  tliese 
was  my  troubled  mind  tossed  to  and  fro  almost  the  whole  of  the 
ensuing  night.  I  put  the  case  of  this  unfortunate  stranger  home 
to  myself,  and  my  breast  was  touched  with  sympathy  and  compai» 
sion.  How  easy,  said  I,  is  it  for  a  man  to  go  from  one  step  to  ano- 
ther in  the  paths  of  vice,  until  he  is  brought  to  the  brink  of  de» 


48  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  Mr.  Elias  Halsey,  the  person  aforementioned,  and 
boutjbt  126  lb.  of  beef,  1  10  lb.  of  pork,  two  bushels  of  In- 
dian corn,  and  one  of  rye,  with  six  cords  of  wood  for  my 
■winter's  store.  With  this  provision  for  my  family  I  re- 
mained till  they  arrived,  which  was  about  the  be^nning 
of  winter  ;  and  my  wife  brought  money  only  sufficient  to 
defray  her  expenses  till  she  had  crossed  the  Sound,  und 
arrived  on  the  island.  My  health,  at  this  time,  was  again 
on  the  decline.  Pulmonary  complaints  had  taken  hold  of 
me,  and  constant  fever  attended,  together  with  great  effu- 
sions of  sweat  immediately  after  closing  my  eyes  in  sleep, 
which  were  so  gi  eat  as  to  drench  the  sheets  in  which  I  lay. 
At  this  time  1  had  opened  an  evening  school,  and  thirty 
scholars  attended.  When  I  used  to  dismiss  the  school  at 
ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  I  would  find  myself  exhausted 
to  such  a  degree  that  I  could  scarcely  reach  home  ;  and 
it  would  seem  that  1  should  never  again  enter  the  school- 
house  ;  but  this  was  the  only  mean  in  my  power  for 
&.Q  support  of  my    family.      Wretchedness  stared  me 

struction  !  How  often  have  I,  by  my  imprudence  and  folly,  needed 
the  fori^iveness  of  others,  and  shall  I  not  be  of  the  like  disposition 
towards  him  ?  Shall  man,  poor  vile  man,  vain  of  his  ov.n  self-righte- 
ousness and  virtues,  presume  to  be  less  merciful  than  his  Maker? 
**  But,"  said  prudence,  "  Perhaps  this  man,  for  wliom  you  have  so 
great  sympathy,  has  abandoned  himself  to  all  manner  of  vice  and 
immorality,  and  deserves  not  the  pity  or  compassion  of  others. 
There  is  nothing  impossible  in  this ;  and  if  he  should  return  here 
again,  perhaps  you  had  better  join  in  tlie  public  clamor  against 
him,  lest  yoiu*  own  chai-acter  should  be  contaminated."  "  Xo,'* 
baid  I,  "  it  is  possible  the  contrary  may  be  tlie  case,  and  I  will  give 
him  a  generous  credit  for  his  future  virtues."  With  thoughts  like 
these  was  I  deprived  of  rest  until  my  mind  found  consolation  in 
the  following  ejaculatory  prayer :  "  O  thou  Preserver  of  men  !  de- 
liver him  from  all  those  sins  which  do  most  easily  beset  him.  Bring 
him  back  into  the  right  road.  Restore  him  to  himself,  and  to  his 
i'riends,  and  to  his  country :  imd  if  he  should  again  return  to  seek 
our  protection,  gi-ant  that  he  may  no  longer  be  stigmatized  and 
scandalized  as  the  vilest  of  men;  and  may  no  cold  or  formal  re- 
serve prevent  me  from  giving  him  friendly  and  decent  admonition. 
If  it  be  thy  holy  will  and  ])leasLire,  may  I  be  the  happy  instrument 
of  reclaiming  him ;  and  may  Jesus  of  Nazureth  wipe  iiilhis  dismal 
stains  away. 

yir.  S  TETHER   BUBROFGHS. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  43 

111  the  face.  When  I  stopped  the  school,  absolute 
vant  ^yas  close  at  my  heels.  Therefore  in  the  morning  I 
"would  again  renew  my  endeavors  to  attend  to  business. 
This  scene  continued  for  six  months ;  every  night  de- 
spairing, and  every  morning  renewing  my  efforts  ;  and, 
strange  to  tell,  I  remained  about  at  one,  neither  better  nor 
worse  ;  and  continued  eytvy  day  in  school,  from  nine  in 
the  morning  till  ten  at  night. 

I  found  the  winter  on  this  island  uncommonly  severe. 
The  surface  of  the  ground  is  ejitremely  level,  and  no  in- 
tervening hills  or  woods  to  break  the  force  of  the  wind 
coming  in  from  sea  ;  hence  it  becomes  the  most  subject 
to  violent  uncomfortable  winds  of  any  place  I  ever  saw. 
In  addition  to  this,  the  buildings  on  the  island  are  set  up 
high  from  the  ground,  v.dthout  any  underpinning  or  bank- 
ing, and  not  very  tight,  and,  of  course,  aie  very  cold,  be- 
ing thus  unfortined  against  the  winter.  In  addition  to  all 
this,  my  wife  v/as  put  to  bed  this  winter,  of  our  second  son, 
and  of  course,  our  family  was  increased  with  additional 
expenses.  Notv/ithstanding  the  six  cords  of  wood,  to- 
gether with  the  provision  in  the  first  place,  had  reached  to 
the  utmost  extent  of  my  finances,  a  few  potatoes  excep- 
ted ;  and  I  could  not,  till  the  month  of  April,  replenish 
my  store. 

These  were  times  to  which  I  now  look  back  with  as- 
tonishment, and  wonder  how  I  lived ;  how  wo  kept  soul 
and  body  together.  Yet  I  went  through,  and  continue 
now  perhaps  as  well  as  though  I  had  lived  in  the  palace 
of  a  king,  feasting  on  the  rich  viands  of  his  table.  For  my 
own  part,  my  state  of  infirm  health  precluded  the  necessi- 
ty of  much  food.' 

At  the  opening  of  the  spring.  Doctor  Havens  put  four 
of  his  children  under  my  care,  and  they  continued  with  me 
for  the  space  of  two  years  ;  to  v/hom  I  paid  unwearied  at- 
tention for  their  advancement  in  literary  acquirements. 
The  Doctor  now  again  renewed  all  his  former  professions 
of  friendship  ;  and  called  on  me  const-intly  to  enliven  the 
declarations  of  esteem.  However,  my  neighbors  and  ac- 
quaintance constantly  waraed  me  against  the  connexion, 
aiiedging  that  I  never  should  close  my  accounts  with  tlj© 


50  MEMOIRS  OF 

DoctoP  w  ithout  difficulty.  I  observed,  with  some  sur- 
prise, that  he  did  not  attend  to  settle  his  quarter  bills  ;  yet 
I  could  not  p;ive  credit  to  these  admoniiions,  ur.til  bitter 
experience  tautrht  me  the  lesson. 

During  this  time  I  had  formed  a  most  agreeable  and 
intimate  acquaintance  wiih  Mr.  Woohvorth  I  found  him 
a  man  of  very  pleasing  parts,  and  an  entertaining  compan- 
ion. His  conduct  on  my  first  acquaintance  had  endeared 
him  to  my  feelings  ;  and  his  after  treatment  had  confirmed 
una  increased  those  sensations.  I  also  became  acquaint- 
ed with  Mr.  Dagget,  minister  of  Southampton,  who  had 
■written  so  spiritedly  against  the  "  Philanthropist.'*  By 
these  two  clergymen  I  was  violently  attacked  upon  the 
subject  of  the  ideas  there  manifested  ;  but  not  feeling  any 
strong  desire  for  the  support  of  the  sentiments  given  out, 
and  likewise  knowing  the  pieces  to  have  been  written  in 
an  unguarded  manner,  I  waved  the  challenge  to  combat, 
and  did  not  enter  the  lists  with  these  knight-errants. 

Some  lime  after  this  interviev.-,  1  fell  in  company  with 
these  same  gentlemen  again,  when  they  attacked  me  with 
more  determinate  resolution  to  bring  me  into  action  ;  but 
I  still  kept  them  at  bay,  without  closing  in  the  contest. 
Seeing  this,  they  demanded  of  me  my  religious  senti- 
ments. Not  complying  immediately  v»ith  their  demarid, 
they  accused  me  of  Universalism,  than  which  nothing 
could  be  more  criminal  in  their  view.  This  was  a  cir- 
cumstance of  which  they  had  been  somewhat  jealous,  ow- 
ting  to  my  wife's  father  being  strongly  in  that  sentiment. 
However,  their  accusation  p  oduced  no  discovery ,^nd  we 
parted  no  wiser  than  before.  Yet  the  whisper  circulated 
in  some  measure  among  a  few  particultr  characters,  that 
I  was  suspected  of  entertaining  sentiments  of  universal 
salvation  ;  until  a  good  old  lady,  who  had  heard  the  report, 
put  them  all  to  silence  by  observing,  that  "  he  can't  be  a 
Universaller,  for  he  is  quite  a  civil  mr.n." 

At  the  opening  of  spring  I  found  myself  in  a  situation, 
from  my  salary,  to  provide  for  my  family  in  some  little 
state  of  comfort,  superior  to  what  we  had  enjoyed  the  win- 
ter preceding.  We  saw  our  little  ones  smiling  around 
lis,  and  a  prospect  of  being  able  to  provide  for  ihsm  cqj;q- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

fortably.  Do  you,  sir,  know  this  pleasure  ?  Indeed,  you 
do  not;  you  cannot.  You  never  yet  saw  the  time  when 
you  expected  your  little  ones  to  perish  before  your  eyes, 
or  otherwise  he  thrown  upon  a  barbarous  world  for  char- 
ity, whose  cold  approach  suffers  thousands  to  droop  and 
die,  before  she  extends  her  hand  to  their  relief  This  I 
have  seen.  I  have  felt  these  truths.  I  have  shuddered 
with  horror  at  the  prospect.  I  have  wished  myself  and 
family  at  re^  in  the  silent  grave.  Under  such  circum- 
stances my  soul  revolted  at  the  idea  of  a  long  life.  Hor- 
ror stalked  around  my  dwelling.  Wild  dismay  was  my 
pillow  companion.  The  most  excruciating  agony  perpet- 
ually harrowed  my  almost  exhausted  spirits.  To  be  re- 
lieved from  such  a  situation  ;  to  see  these  frightful  imag- 
es chased  from  my  view  ;  to  see  all  these  threatening  dan- 
gers past  and  gone,  brought  on  a  situation,  of  all  others, 
the  most  calculated  to  render  me  sensible  of  my  present 
felicity  ;  and  to  give  me  those  feelings  under  it,  which 
no  other  person  can  experience,  unless  his  situation  had 
been  sim.ilar  to  mine. 

iNIy  school,  through  the  winter,  had  been  large,  and  had 
made  rapid  proficiency  in  learning.  Satisfaction  was  the 
necessary  consequent  among  all  my  constituents ;  and 
prosperity  was  now  the  general  prospect.  One  circum- 
stance seemed  but  slightly  to  interrupt  this  harmony.  The 
evening  school,  v.'hich  continued  through  the  winter,  was 
composed  of  elder  members,  who  wished  to  perfect  their 
education  by  attending  to  mathematics,  geography,  and 
rhetoric.  In  paying  attention  to  the  latter,  they  had  com- 
mitted to  memory  a  comedy  of  *'  a  bold  stroke  for  a  wife." 
After  practicing  it  for  a  while  in  private,  they  formed  a 
purpose  to  exhibit  the  performance  in  public.  As  there 
was  no  situation,  the  meeting-house  excepted,  convenient 
for  such  an  exhibition,  it  was  determined,  after  consulting 
some  of  the  leading  men  in  the  parish,  to  have  the  come- 
dy performed  in  the  meeting-house.  It  was  accordmgly 
performed  before  a  crowded  audience. 

Deacon  Hedges  had  not  been  consulted  on  this  business. 
He  lived  in  a  remote  part  of  the  town.  He-  was  much  of- 
fended at  the  circumstance.     He  viewed  the  house  t^ol- 


^2  MEMOIRS  OF 

/«/frf  in  consequence  of  the  performance.     But  this  diffi- 
culty died  away,  without  much  flowing  from  it  of  any  kind 
As  I  have  heretofore  hinted,  the  people  on  this  island 
^ere  very  illiterate,  making  but  a  small  calculation  for  in- 
formation, further  than  the  narrow  circle  of  their  own  bu- 
siness extended.     They  were  almost  entirely  destitute  of 
books  of  any  kind,  except  school  books  and  bibles ;  hence, 
those  who  had  a  taste  for  reading,  had  not  the  opportunity. 
I  found  a  number  of  those  young  people  who  had  attended 
my  evening  school,  possessing  bright  abilities,  and  a  strong 
thirst  for  information,  which  would  lead  to  rapid  improve- 
ment, had  they  the  opportunity*;      Therefore,  under  cir- 
cumstances   like  these,    I   felt  very  desirous  to  devise 
some  method  to  remove  the  evil.     It  was  a  subject  of  fre- 
quent conversation  with  the  various  characters  into  whose 
.  company  I  happened  to  fall.     No  plan,  however,  was  yet 
adopted.     I  mentioned  the  expedience  of  a  Sunday  school. 
That  idea  was  immediately  rejected,  on  the  principle  of 
its  being  unprecedented  in  the  place.     I  proposed  to  de- 
vote Saturdays  for  the  instruction  of  those  who  could  not 
attend  through  the  week  ;  but  that  trenched  too  hard  up- 
on the  economical  system.     I  endeavored  to  persuade  the 
young  people  to  buy  books  ;  but  the  greater  part  being  yet 
minors,  that  could  not  be  effected  without  the  assistance 
of  their  parents,  which  assistance  could  not   be  expected 
on  account  of  the  expense.     I  finally  thought  of  using  my 
endeavors  to  persuade  the  people   into  the  expediency  of 
raising  money  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  a  number  of 
books  for  the  use  of  the  young  people  of  the  district.     I 
laid  this  plan  before  Mr.  Woolworth  for  advice.      I  had 
often  conversed  with  him  on  the  subject  before.     He  did 
not  encourage  me  in   the  pursuit.      He  said   the  people 
would  not  consent  to  it ;  that  they  had  no  idea  of  the  bene- 
fit of  books,  or  of  a  good  education  ;  "  and  you  cannot  per- 
suade them  to  any  thing  that  is  new,   or  that  is  attended 
with  exfiense.     I  have  tried  this  matter  myself      I  have 
had  the  assistance  of  Judge  Hurlbut ;  but  all  did  not  effect 
the  purpose  ;  a  library  they  would  not  have.    1  believe  our 
influence  is  much  greater  with  the  people  than  yours. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  53 

Under  these  discouraging  prospects  I  had  aboat  i-^lin- 
quished  the  idea  (thougli  reluctantly)  of  attempting  any 
plan  to  assist  the  young  people  to  procure  a  tolerable  edu- 
cation. I  was  in  conversation  one  evening  with  Mr.  Hal- 
sey  upon  this  subject.  He  was  a  man  of  shrewd  discern- 
ment and  excellent  judgment.  "  Mr.  Burroughs,  (said 
he)  I  have  for  some  time  observed  your  attention 
to  the  welfare  of  your  school  with  some  surprise.  It 
has  not  been  thus  with  former  school-masters.  They 
have  ever  manifested  a  desire  to  do  as  little  for  the  school 
as  they  could  consistent  with  their  engagements.  I  am 
sensible  of  the  advantage  of  such  a  plan  as  you  propose, 
of  having  a  collection  of  books  for  the  common  use  of  the 
district.  1  wish  you  may  succeed  in  your  friendly  en- 
deavors. I  believe  you  may,  if  you  pursue  right  methods. 
Mr.  Woolworth,  it  is  true,  has  made  sundry  attempts  to 
to  establish  a  library  in  this  town  ;  but  a  number  of  cir- 
cumstances have  been  unfavorable  to  his  plan.  In  the 
first  place,  he  has  made  the  price  of  a  share  much  too 
high  ;  in  the  room  of  forty  shillings  it  ought  to  be  twenty. 
The  people  in  general  will  then  likely  become  proprie- 
tors ;  and  for  such  people  the  library  oughl  to  be  estab- 
lished, because  they  are  not  able  to  supply  themselves 
with  books  in  any  other  way.  Vv'e  who  are  ignorant  of 
the  beoent  of  a  library,  may  be  willing  to  risk  twenty  shil- 
lings ;  but  forty  would  terrify  us. 

"  Another  reason  why  Mr.  Woohvorth  has  not  suc- 
ceeded is,  that  people  arc  afraid  they  shall  not  be  graiiii- 
ed  in  such  books  as  they  want,  so  long  as  he  has  the  lead 
of  the  business.  They  generally  expect  the  liorary  will 
consist  of  books  in  divinity,  and  dry  metaphysical  writings  ; 
whereas,  should  they  be  assured  that  histories  and  books 
of  information  would  be  procured,  I  have  no  doubt  they 
might  be  prevailed  upon  to  raise  money  sufficient  for  such 
a  purpose.'* 

These  hints  from  Mr.  Halsey  were  clear  in  my  view, 
and  his  reasoning  decisive,  I  determined  to  im.prove  from 
it,  and  once  more  rer.ew  rny  plan  aaa  cxerdon«.  Ac  >'i* 
Vv'oolwnrfV,  ,.^~^  --^y  counseiior  in  all  matters  of  moment,  I 
again  made  application  to  him,  and  sketched  ou:  the  plui 


54  MEMOIRS  OF 

for  his  opinion.  He  still  manifested  his  doubts  about  my 
uccceding.  He  added,  "Certainly,  you  cannot  expect 
our  influence  among  this  people  to  be  equal  to  mine.  I 
have  tried  the  project  faithfully,  ard  have  not  succeeded." 
However,  after  reasoning  -with  hjjj^i  upon  the  subject  for 
the  space  of  tvv'o  hours,  he  ended  with  this  observation — 
«  If  you  find  that  you  have  influence  enough  among  the 
oeople  to  eff'ect  your  purpose,  I  will  become  a  member  of 
_  ^.ur  library.'*     Thus  we  parted. 


CHAP.  IV. 


H 


AVING  now  a  little  leisure  on  hand,  owirig  to  a  school 
vacation,  1  determined  to  devote  that  time  to  the  purpose 
cf  visiting  the  people  of  the  district,  and  offering  and  urg- 
ing upon  them  my  plan  for  a  library.  Much  to  my  satis- 
faction, I  fouf'd  the  people  willing  to  grant  their  aid  to  this 
business,  after  I  had  informed  them  into  the  nature  of  such 
books  as  should  be  procured,  and  into  tlie  advantages  such 
a  matter  Mould  afl'ord  them.  However,  I  had  to  renew  my 
promises  often,  before  they  could  feel  certain  that  their 
money  would  be  appropriated  to  the  purchase  of  histo- 
ries, &c. 

In  the  space  of  a  few  days  I  had  raised  forty  pounds, 
which  I  supposed  adequate  to  the  purpose  first  intended, 
i  then  applied  to  ]Mr.  Woolworth  for  his  share  of  the  mo- 
ney, and  to  inform  him  of  my  success.  I  felt  a  degree  of 
exultation  in  the  hope  of  surprising  him  m  the  most  agree- 
able manner,  with  the  news  of  my  succeeding  so  happily. 
But  what  was  my  astonishment  and  dismay,  when  in  a  cold 
disdainful  manner  he  observed,  "  that  I  was  very  officious 
to  gain  influence  among  his  people."  However,  he  paid 
bis  money,  and  we  parted  with  feelings,  on  my  side,  very 
difterent  from  what  they  were  when  I  was  going  on  this 
visit. 

I  iGini£4i^tely  advertised  the  proprietors  of  the  library 
♦.0  hold  a  meeting  tor  tne  purpose  ursct©cting  a  catalogue 
of  books,  and  to  make  rules  for  the  government  of  a  libra- 
ry, Sec.     At  the  day  appointefl  we  ail  met.     After  we  had 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  •  55 

entered  into  some  clesulton-  conversation  upon  t'ne  busi- 
ness, it  was  proposed  and  agreed  to  choose  a  committee  of 
five,  to  make  choice  of  books.  Mr.  Woolvvorth,  myself, 
Deacon  Cook,  Doctor  Rose,  and  one  Matthews,  were  cho- 
seti  a  committee  for  this  purpose.  Immediately  after  v/e 
had  entcixid  upon  business,  Mr.  Woohvorth  produced  u 
catalogue  of  books  of  his  own  selection,  and  told  the  meet- 
ing that  he  had  consulted  all  the  catalogues  of  the  book- 
stores in  Xew-Yovk,  and  had  chosen  the  best  out  of  thcni 
all  for  this  library  ;  and  called  for  a  vote  upon  his  motio]i. 
The  meeting  voted  in  the  affirmative  ;  upon  which  he  pro- 
posed to  proceed  upon  the  business  of  forming  rules  for 
the  regulation  of  the  library. 

I  now  felt  myself  in  a  most  disagreeable  and  delicate 
situation.  Mr.  Woolworth  was  a  character,  of  all  others, 
I  would  not  willingly  disoblige.  To  take  any  measures 
to  stop  his  extraordinary  efforts,  I  knew,  would  offend  him 
in  the  highest  manner  ;  and  to  remain  a  silent  spectator 
would  be  at  once  renouncing  every  claim  to  integrity,  in- 
asmuch as  I  had  promised  the  proprietors  positively,  that 
histories,  and  books  of  information  upon  secular  subjects, 
should  give  the  leading  cast  to  the  complexion  of  the  li- 
brary. Mr.  Woohvorth  was  fully  availed  of  tiis  circum- 
^stance.  Kls  reasoning,  as  it  appea.^'ed  to  me,  was  after 
this  manner,  (viz.)  that  as  the  support  of  myself  and  fami- 
ly depended  on  my  school,  and  as  his  influence  was  so  con- 
siderable that  he  could  essentially  injure  me  in  that  re- 
spect, he  therefore  concluded  that  I  would  sacrifice  every 
other  consideration  to  my  present  support  ;  and  would  not, 
of  consequence,  dare  provoke  his  resentment  bv  opposing 
his  measures  with  regard  to  the  choice  of  books  for  the 
library.  If  that  should  be  the  case,  the  people  who  had 
placed  confidence  in  me  vrould  see  it  delusor^^  and  that  I 
would  not  or  could  not  be  instrumented  in  aiding  their 
measures  when  opposed  to  him.  The  natural  conse- 
quence fiowiiig  from  such  a  circumstance,  would  be  to  ap- 
preciate him,  and  depreciate  me  in  their  view  ;  a  matter 
which  now  lay  near  his  heart,  fearful  that  m.y  growing  in- 
fluence would  lead  the  attention  of  the  people  from  him 
to  other  ob-ects. 


.  S  MEMOIRS  OF 

The  contempt  with  which  he  treated  me,  as  a  member 
ofthe  comniittee,  together  with  the  rest,  was  what  I  would 
have  subraiitsd  to,  v/ith  patience,  on  mv  own  account, 
ijut  when  I  viewed  all  the  other  members  silent  under 
ttie  indignity,  Mr.  Woolworth  not  deigning  to  consult  any 
upon  his  catalogue,  I  found  the  imperious  hand  of  neces- 
sity hiid  upon  me  to  advocate  the  cause  of  those  who  had 
paid  thair  money  on  the  faith  of  my  promise. 

I  requested  the  f<iv6r  of  Mr.  Woolworth  to  see  the  cat- 
.'.logue  he  had  selected.  After  running  it  through,  I  per- 
ceived that  the  conjectures  ofthe  people  had  not  been  ill 
founded  respecting  the  choice  he  would  make  for  them. 
Hiscatilogue  consisted  wholly  of  book's  upon  the  subject 
of  ethics  ;  and  did  not  contain  a  single  history,  or  any 
thing  ofthe  kind.  I  observed,  in  the  mildest  manner, 
th?.t  this  catalogue  was  essentially  different  from  the  minds 
ofthe  people,  or  else  I  had  misunderstood  them  ;  that  I 
was  apprehensive  they  did  not  understand  themselves 
v/hen  they  passed  the  vote  ;  but  that  should  the  mistake 
lie  on  my  side  of  the  questiou,  I  was  willing  to  stand  cor- 
rected ;  yet,  at  least,  we  had  deviated  from  the  first  plan. 
Upon  this  Mr.  Woolworth  observed,  that  "  he  hoped  his 
people  were  not  dependent  on  me  to  know  their  own 
VT-lshes  ;  that  he  wished  I  had  modesty  enough  not  to  con- 
sider myself  spokesman  for  his  people  ;  that  he  believed 
he  was  as  v/eil  acquainted  with  thera,  and  understood  what 
books  would  suit  them  as  I  did.'* 

You  will  naturally  conclude  that  observations  like  these 
had  no  very  pleasing  effect  upon  my  feelings.  I  was  de- 
termined, however,  not  to  be  bullied  out  of  countenance 
until  I  had  reached  the  mark  for  which  I  had  started, 
which  was  to  learn  the  feelings  of  the  meeting,  and  to  act 
accordingly.  Mr.  W^oolworth  was  moderator,  and  conse- 
quently, I  could  not  call  for  the  minds  of  the  people  col- 
lectirely  by  a  vote  ;  but  applied  to  the  members  individu- 
ally, and  asked  them  if  they  were  satisfied  with  the  vote 
they  had  just  passed;  to  which  they  universally  answered 
in  the  negative. 

When  Mr.  Woolworth  found  them  decidedly  against 
their  own  vote,  he  plead  for  an  adjournment,  which  was. 


STEPHEN  EURROUGHS.  sr 

iTadily  granted,  and  the  meeting  was  adjourned  for  a  week. 
After  the  present  meeting  was  ended,  a  number  of  the 
members  came  to  my  house  to  consult  upon  the  business 
in  private,  which  thfy  dare  not  advocate  openly  against 
Mr.  Wool  worth.  I  found  they  were  somewhat  surprised 
at  my  daring  to  speak  publiciy  against  the  measures  of 
the  minister. 

A  few  days  afier,  there  was  a  general  collection  of  peo- 
ple, on  account  of  a  Vvoman  who  was  delirious,  abscond- 
ing, and  hiding  herself  in  the  fields.  Mr.  Woolworth 
and  myself  met  together  on  this  occasion,  for  the  first 
time  since  our  lilwary  meeting.  He  attacked  me  with 
some  warmth,  on  account  of  my  conduct  in  opposing  him, 
and  told  me  decidedly,  that  should  I  not  withdraw  my  mo- 
tion at  the  rext  meeting  of  the  proprietors  of  the  library, 
and  remain  silent,  I  should  there  find  things  that  would 
make  me  tremble  ;  and  that  I  must  lay  my  account  soon 
to  leave  the  country.  During  this  conversation,  Judge 
Hurlbut  joined  us,  and  began  to  address  me  in  the  follow- 
ing manner:  "Mr.  Burroughs,  do  you  expect  to  come 
here  among  us,  and  attempt  to  direct  our  matters,  and  set 
yourself  up  above  all  the  first  men  in  the  country,  after 
we  had  taken  pity  upon  you,  a  poor  miserable,  vagabond, 
turned  out  of  all  countries  where  you  have  resided,  and  a 
■disgrace  to  the  people  among  whom  you  ever  lived  ?" 

An  address  like  this,  I  apprehended,  was  calculated  to 
afTect  the  feelings  of  any  man  who  had  feelings,  and  at 
the  same  time  manifested  such  a  disposition  as  sunk  Judge 
Ilurlbut  into  abject  contempt,  in  my  view.  I  found,  by 
this  time,  a  clamor  raised,  which  filled  the  neighboring 
towns,  that  I  was  trying  to  fill  the  library  with  books  of 
corrupt  principles  ;  and  more  especially  with  the  writings 
of  Deists  and  Universalists  ;  and  consequently  was  deter- 
mined to  shut  out  all  good  books.  This  declaration  was 
constantly  in  the  mouths  of  Judge  Hurlbut  and  Mr.  Wool 
worth. 

Matters  were  in  this  situation  at  the  appointed  time  of 
the  adjourned  meeting.  I  found  that  a  large  number  of 
members  were  added  to  the  body  of  proprietors  ;  so  that 
by  thi?  time,  the   whole  number  amounted  to  nearly  c^ 


58  MEMOIRS  OF 

<?uite  a  hundred.  This  l^ad  taken  place  by  the  instruTnen- 
tality  of  Mr.  Woolworth,  who  had  spent  a  great  part  of  the 
week  of  adjournment  to  gain  new  members,  in  order  to 
give  himself  a  majority  among  themj  by  the  addition  of 
his  friends,  and  more  particularly  such  as  he  deemed  influ- 
ential. 

The  meeting  was  opened  by  IVIr.  Woolworth,  who  stat- 
ed to  them  the  excellency  of  his  own  collection  of  books, 
and  the  vile  means  I  had  used  to  make  contention  and  di- 
vision among  his  people.  He  was  about  calling  for  a  vote 
of  the  meeting,  when  I  endeavored  to  gain  a  hearing,  but 
to  no  purpose.  He  proceeded  to  put  his  motion  to  vote  ; 
»nd,  to  his  infinite  mortification,  saw  but  fifteen  hands  rais- 
ed. He  did  not  call  for  the  contrary.  I  then  found  an 
opportunity  to  address  myself  to  the  meeting,  and  stated  to 
them  my  reasons  for  wishing  for  a  collection  of  books  m 
the  first  place  ;  the  methods  I  had  taken,  and  the  plans  I 
had  pursued ;  but  added,  "  As  the  business  has  now  be- 
come much  more  extensive  than  I,  at  first,  had  entertained 
the  most  remote  idea,  I  think  the  plan  of  the  library  ought 
likcv.ise  to  be  extended,  and  more  latitude  given  in  the 
clioice  of  books,  that  we  may,  in  this  way,  gratify  the  taste 
of  every  member,  making  this  the  leading  object  of  atten- 
tion, to  obtain  such  books  generally  as  are  most  conforma- 
ble to  the  taste  of  the  majority  of  the  society.  I  have  made 
a  selection  from  a  number  of  catalogues  of  such  books  as 
appeared  to  me  suitable  to  the  first  design  of  this  institu- 
tion :  however,  I  did  not  proceed  so  far  in  this  choice  as  I 
should  have  done,  had  I  known  of  the  consi<lerablc  addi- 
tion which  has  now  taken  place.  I  will  read  to  you,  gen- 
ticraen,  the  tiile  of  the  books,  and  then  describe  them  to 
you  in  a  summary  way.  Should  any  book  be  thought  of 
by  any  one,  v.hich  he  may  wish  to  have  introduced,  I  think 
it  reasonable  for  him  to  have  the  privilege,  sofcirashis 
money  will  esctend  in  the  pivrchase,  to  introduce  his  book, 
when  no  special  objeciion  shall  lie  in  the  way." 

After  I  had  ended  these  observations,  I  proceeded  to 
read  \h^  titles  of  the  books.  After  a  course  of  lime,  I  came 
to  "  Brooks'  wiiiings:"  at  which  Mr»  Woolworth  declar- 
ed that  to  be  a  book,  together  with  tfee  others,  totally  inad- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  59 

missible  :  "  for,"  said  he,  "no  one  can  understand  it,  he 
writes  upon  such  subjects,  and  in  such  an  obscure  manner  ; 
and  all  Burroughs*  books  are  of  the  same  cast."  Knowing 
that  the  "  Fool  of  Quality"  had  been  read  by  some  present, 
I  made  the  appeal  to  them,  whether  that  was  a  book  ob- 
scurely written.  At  this  question  Mr.  Woolworth  started, 
and  demanded  if  Brooks  was  the  author  of  the  "  Fool  of 
Quality.**  For  so  ignorant  was  this  critic,  that  he  did  not 
know  the  books  he  undertook  to  condemn. 

After  I  had  finished  my  catalogue,  this  method  was  final- 
ly proposed,  and  adopted,  (viz.)  that  two  others  should  be 
added  to  the  committee,  and  that  the  meeting  should  be 
adjourned  again  for  a  week,  to  give  the  members  of  the 
committee  time  for  information  ;  that  another  meeting 
should  again  be  held,  and  a  choice  of  books  made  after  the 
following  manner,  viz.  that  each  member  of  the  commit- 
tee should  have  a  negative  upon  any  book  which  was  offer- 
ed for  admission,  and  thus  proceed  until  all  were  satisfied 
with  the  books. 

During  the  time  of  adjournment  the  clamor  still  in- 
creased against  the  books  which  I  had  offered  for  the  libra- 
ry. Mr.  Woolworth  and  Judge  Huribui  were  in  a  state  of 
great  activity  on  this  subject,  and  their  perpetual  cry  was, 
"  that  I  was  endeavoring  to  overthrow  all  religion,  moral- 
ity and  order  in  the  place  ;  was  introducing  corrupt  books 
into  the  library,  and  adopting  the  most  fatal  measures  to 
overthrow  all  the  good  old  estahlishments^ 

At  the  next  meeting,  the  different  members  of  the  com- 
mittee had  collected  a  catalogue  of  books,  peculiar  to  their 
own  taste.  Deacon  Hedges  brought  forward,  "  Essays  on 
the  Divine  authority  for  Infant  Baptism,"  "  Terms  of 
Church  Communion,**  "  The  Careful  Watchman,'* »'  Age 
of  Grace,**  &c.  &c.  all  pamphlets. — Deacon  Cook*s  collec- 
tion was,  "  History  of  Martyrs,"  "  Rights  of  Conscience," 
"  Modern  Pharisees,"  "  Defence  of  Separates,"  &c. — -Mr. 
Woohvoiih  exhibited  "  Edwards  against  Chauncey,"  ''Plis- 
tory  of  Redemption,"  "  Jenning*5  View,'*  Sec.  Judge  Hurl- 
but  concurred  in  the  same.  Doctor  Rose  exhibited, 
"  Gay's  Fables,"  "  Pleasing  Companion,"  "  Turkisli 
Spy  ;"  while  I  forlhe  third  time  recommended  "Hume's 


60  MEMOIRS  OF 

History,"  «  Voltaire*s  Histories,"  ''  Rollin's  Ancient  His* 
tory,"  "  Plutarch's  Lives,"  Sec.  I  carefully  avoided,  from 
the  beginning,  offering  any  books  of  the  sectarian  kind,  or 
that  would  have  a  tendency  to  lead  the  readers  into  relig- 
ious disputes. 

After  we  bad  assembled  together,  we  chose  Dr.  Rose 
for  our  clerk,  and  on  his  being  appointed,  Mr.  Woolworth 
proceeded  to  order  him  to  insert  in  his  entries,  books  of  his 
own  choice,  without  even  deigning  to  hear  the  opinion  of 
any  other  member  of  the  committee  upon  them.  I  en- 
deavored several  times  to  call  his  attention  to  the  books  of 
my  catalogue,  but  in  vain.  Doctor  Rose  proceeded  to 
obey  his  orders  with  punctual  exactness  until  Mr.  Wool- 
worth  had  finished  his  catalogue.  He  then  addressed  the 
meeting,  and  told  them  that  the  committee  had  made  choice 
of  the  catalogue  of  books  then  presented,  and  called  for  a 
vote  of  the  meeting  whether  they  would  accept  it.  They 
voted  in  the  affirmative. 

After  the  vote  was  passed,  I  arose  and  addressed  myself 
to  the  meeting  in  the  following  manner  :  "  Gentlemen, 
it  is  with  no  small  degree  of  pain  I  have  been  a  spectator 
of  what  has  passed  at  this  meeting.  1  have  here  seen  a 
departure  from  every  principle  of  propriety  in  the  choice 
of  your  library,  and  you  giving  countenance  to  it  by  your 
vote.  I  in  the  first  place  felt  anxious  to  befriend  you  in 
the  collection  of  a  small  number  of  books  for  your  use.  I 
consulted  your  feelings  and  interest  in  the  matter,  and 
promised  you  my  faithful  support  in  promoting  such  a 
choice  as  you  would  desire.  In  obedience  to  my  prom- 
ise, I  have  pursued  such  measures  as  to  incur  the  highest 
displeasure  of  Mr.  Woolworth  and  associates,  and  sub- 
jected myself  to  the  highest  insults,  to  the  most  virulent 
lash  of  slander  and  malignity,  and  to  the  threats  of  being 
turned  out  of  town  with  infamy  and  disgrace  ;  all  these 
evils  I  could  have  borne  with  patience,  because  I  have  the 
consolation  of  doing  what  I  ought,  and  likewise  knowing 
that  truth  must  finally  triumph  over  error  ;  but  to  see  you 
relinquish  thus  tamely  those  privileges  which  you  have 
manifeated  such  a  desire  for,  and  which  are  so  clearly  your 
ny;4it,  is  a  circumstance  truly  mortifying.     However,  as 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  61 

tijis  is  the  second  instance  of  the  kind,  I  think  myself 
clearly  absolved  from  my  first  engagement  to  procure 
you  books  according  to  your  taste.  I  truly  feel  very  much 
disaj3pointed  in  the  loss  of  my  object,  and  therefore  shall 
decline  any  longer  considering  myself  a  member  of  the 
library.  As  I  have  the  money  in  my  hands,  every  mem- 
ber may  receive  it  again,  when  he  requests  it.  You  can- 
not then  complain  that  your  money  has  been  applied  to 
uses  contrary  to  your  wishes.  In  thus  doing  I  acquit  my- 
self  of  every  obligation  which  my  promise  had  laid  mc 
under  to  you.  I  wish  you  may  profit  by  your  library  ;  I 
wish  it  may  claim  the  attention  of  all  classes,  more  partic- 
ularly the  younger,  and  inspire  them  with  a  thirst  for  in- 
formation [ind  inr.provement ;  but  I  fear  that  these  conse- 
quences will  not  so  readily  follow,  as  I  once  expected.  In 
the  room  of  hurting  the  institution,  I  promise  you,  gen- 
tlemen, that  I  will  give  it  every  aid  which  I  can  consis- 
tently.    A  poor  library  is  better  than  none.'* 

After  I  had  closed,  Mr.  Woohvorth  replied  in  the  se- 
verest and  most  pointed  terms.  He  observed  "  that  I  had 
very  generously  promised  my  aid  to  his  library.  He  wish- 
ed me  to  remember  that  my  aid  was  'not  wished  for.  They 
felt  perfectly  able  to  manage  v.'ithout  me,  and  if  I  would 
not  consider  myself  of  so  much  consequence  in  that  place, 
I  might  meet  with  better  treatment."  He  likewise  de- 
manded the  money  which  I  held  to  be  delivered  over  to 
him  and  not  to  the  individuals.  However,  his  demands 
■were  not  complied  with.  I  gave  each  member  his  mon- 
ey, and  departed. 

In  the  course  of  this  evening,  about  half  the  members 
of  the  library  came  to  m.y  house,  and  desired  me  to  take 
their  money  and  send  to  New  York  for  such  books  as  were 
contained  in  my  first  catalogue,  observing,  that  Mr.  Wool- 
worth's  collection  was  such,  that  they  would  not  be  mem- 
bers of  his  library.  I  demanded  why  they  voted  for  it,  so 
long  as  it  was  contrary  to  their  wishes  ;  their  answer  was, 
that  tbey  were  loth  to  oiiend  Mr.  Woohvorth,  for  if  they 
did,  he  could  out  talk  them.  I  consented  to  their  propos- 
al, but  observed,  that  probably  the  other  society  would  send 
to  New-York  for  their  books,  and  we  might,  by  purchasing 


62  MEMOIRS  OF 

the  tv'hole  together,  obtain  them  cheaper,  and  after  the 
books  arrived,  then  each  library  receive  its  own.  This 
idea  met  -with  their  approbation,  and  it  was  agreed  upon 
that  I  should,  the  next  morning,  wait  on  Mr.  Wool  worth, 
and  lay  the  plan  before  him. 

>  I  considered  Mr.  Woolworth  the  moming  preceding,  as 
much  out  of  temper,  so  far  as  not  to  treat  me  with  com- 
mon decency  ;  how  he  would  feel  and  conduct  this  morn- 
ing was  a  matter  of  some  doubt  in  my  mind  ;  however,  I 
v.as  determined  to  observe  such  measures  towards  him  as 
to  make  it  manifest  that  still  the  remains  of  gratitude  were 
sufficiently  strong  in  my  heart,  to  act  upon  the  most  friend- 
ly terms.  I  was  very  sensible  that  the  plan  which  1  was 
about  laying  before  him  would  embrace  his  interest  as  well 
as  mine,  and  that  there  could  not  be  any  reasonable  objec- 
tion to  it. 

When  I  arrived  at  his  house,  I  found  that  time  had  by 
no  means  cooled  his  rage.  He  there  said  and  performed 
actions  which,  for  the  honor  of  the  cloth  and  of  human  na- 
ture, I  do  not  choose  to  repeat.  He  utterly  refused  to  pay 
any  attention  to  my  proposition.  He  threatened  me  with 
immediate  expulsion  from  the  place,  provided  I  did  not 
retrench  my  measures,  or  if  I  proceeded  to  purchase  the 
books  for  those  who  had  left  his  library.  My  answer  to 
these  many  threats  was  of  the  following  tenor.  "  I  feel 
inyself,  Mr.  Woolworth,  founded  upon  too  just  a  principle 
to  be  subject  to  the  motive  of  fear,  therefore  you  will  save 
yourself  some  fruitless  labor  to  drop  that  subject  and  never 
resume  it.  One  circumstance  has  weight  on  my  mind,  in 
my  conduct  towards  you.  When  I  first  came  into  this 
town,  you  then  conducted  towards  me  li.k.e  a  friend.  I  then 
stood  in  need  of  assistance.  I  felt  the  benefitof  your  kind- 
ness ;  I  felt  grateful  on  the  occasion ;  I  ever  have  most 
sincerely  wished  to  manifest  those  sentiments  by  the  most 
friendly  line  of  conduct  towards  you.  I  still  wish  it. 
Therefore  I  conjure  you,  for  your  own  sake,  for  the  sake 
of  my  enjoying  those  sensations  of  pleasure  which  will  na- 
turally flow  from  acts  of  benevolence,  that  you  would  con- 
duct so  as  to  leave  it  in  my  powder  to  shew  a  friendly  part 
towards  vou. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  63 

"  You  cannot  6iit  be  sensible  that  self-preservation  is 
the  first  law  of  nature,  and  if  you  continue  as  you  have 
done,  to  use  every  effort  to  injure  me  in  the  public  opin- 
ion, it  is  a  duty  I  owe  myself  and  family  to  justify  my  con- 
duct to  the  public,  and  this  ultimately  will  be  at  your  ex- 
pense, for  if  they  entertain  an  idea  of  my  conduct  as  being 
founded  in  justice,  they  will  of  course,  consider  you  as  a 
false  accuser,  malignant  character,  and  revengeful  person. 
How  such  an  idea  will  operate,  you  must  be  sensible,  if 
your  passion  for  revenge  has  not  wholly  deprived  you  of 
reflection.  Finally,  sir,  I  wish  to  be  in  such  a  situation  as 
not  to  injure  you  either  directly  or  indirectly." 

After  I  had  closed  my  observations,  I  saw  a  sneer  of 
contempt  sitting  on  his  countenance  ;  he  answered,  "  You 
wish  not  to  ijijure  me  ?  I  despise  your  exertions.  What 
do  you  think  you  can  do,  you  poor  miserable  wretch  !  to- 
wards injuring  me  ?  I  suppose  you  wish  forme  to  make 
terms  with  yon  ;  you  forget  yourself,  that  you  are  a  miser- 
able fugitive  and  exile  from  your  own  country,  and  here 
by  the  means  of  my  protection." 

I  left  the  house  of  Mr.  Woolworth  hopeless  and  melan- 
choly. To  see  the  effects  of  his  ungovernable  rage,  was 
an  object  truly  distressiug  to  any  feeling  mind.  To  see 
him  thus  blindly  pursuing  his  own  ruin  to  gratify  his  re- 
venge, especially  being  a  clegyman,  the  professed  ambas- 
sador of  the  King  of  Peace,  was  an  object  of  contempla- 
tion of  the  most  disagreeable  kind. 

I  grant  the  deed 
Is  madness  ;  but  the  madness  of  the  heart. 
And  what  is  that  ?  Our  utmost  bomid  of  guilt. 
A  sensual  unreflecting  life  is  big- 
With  monstrous  births,  and  suicide,  to  c^o^m 
The  black  infernal  brood. 

I  made  report  to  the  members  of  our  library  that  the 
object  which  wc  first  contemplated  was  now  entirely  out 
of  the  question,  and  that  it  was  necessary  of  consequence 
to  have  a  meeting  in  order  to  take  further  measures  for 
our  own  internal  regulations,  and  procuring  the  books  in 
^lestion.     A  meeting  accordingly  was  warned  to  beheld 


64  MEMOIRS  OF 

at  my  house  the  third  night  succeeding,  where  the  mem- 
bers accordingly  met,  and  we  were  proceeding  on  busi- 
ness, when  Mr.  Woolworth  came  among  us.  He  did  not 
now  appear  with  that  overbearing  haughtiness  which  he 
had  at  first  assumed.  He  seemed  moderate  and  rational. 
He  observed  that  he  was  apprehensive  our  measures  were 
not  calculated  for  the  general  good.  "  While  we  are 
pursuing  the  object  of  two  libraries  I  fear  we  shall  fail  in 
both  ;  being  divided,  we  shall  in  our  operations  militate 
against  each  other,  and  finally  both  come  to  the  ground." 
In  answer  to  this  we  observed,  "  that  every  idea  we  enter- 
tained on  the  subject  was  to  purchase  such  books  with  our 
mioney  as  we  wished  for.  This  was  a  right  which  v/e  in- 
herited fronr^nature,  and  which  we  did  not  intend  to  give 
up ;  and  so  long  as  we  could  not  be  indulged  in  this  privi- 
lege in  company  with  him,  we  had  separated  and  eet  up  by 
ourselves  ;  yet  we  were  willing  to  purchase  our  books  to- 
gether ;  nay  more,  have  them  all  kept  in  one  library,  if 
that  were  thought  most  expedient,  so  that  after  we  had 
read  our  books,  they  might  have  the  privilege  of  them,  so 
far  as  they  esteemed  it  a  privilege,  and  we  of  theirs  under 
similar  circumstances." 

To  these  remarks  Mr.  Woolworth  answered,  that  he 
felt  himself  entirely  contented  with  them,  and  further  ob- 
served, that  he  would  use  ail  his  influence  with  the  other 
members  oi  the  committee  to  have  our  proposals  acceded 
to,  on  condition  of  our  remaining  still  with  regard  to  the 
purchase  of  the  books,  until  the  sitting  of  the  committee, 
which  would  be  in  about  a  week.  We  readily  complied 
with  these  proposals,  and  consequently  all  further  pro- 
ceedings were  at  present  suspended. 

At  the  sitting  of  the  committee,  I  came  forward  with 
our  proposals,  without  entertaining  the  least  doubt  of  their 
being  readily  acceded  to  ;  but,  sir,  imagine  my  t.stonish- 
ment  when  I  heard  Mr.  Woolworth  reprobate  the  idea  in 
the  most  pointed  manner,  in  open  violation  of  his  positive 
promise  to  the  contrary.  He  insisted  upon  it,  that  it  was 
departing  from  the  dignity  of  their  character  to  form  a  co- 
alition with  malecontents  ;  that  it  was  contrary  to  their 
powers  to  admit  such  books  into  the  library  ;  and  finally, 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS,  66 

that  no  other  way  remained  but  for  us  to  pay  our  money 
into  their  hands,  and  rest  the  business  with  them  to  buy 
such  books  as  they  should  choose.  I  expostulated  with 
Mr.  Woolworth  upon  such  a  line  of  conduct ;  upon  its 
unreasonableness  and  absurdity ;  but  all  to  no  effect.  He 
tenaciously  adhered  to  his  first  position,  and  I  finally  pro- 
posed the  expediency  of  calling  another  meeting  of  the 
proprietors,  and  laying  the  business  before  them.  This 
was  equally  opposed  ;  but  the  rest  of  the  committee  now 
began  to  even  dare  to  dissent  in  opinion  from  Mr.  Wool- 
worth,  and  a  meeting  of  the  proprietors  was  accordingly 
warned. 

About  this  time  the  term  of  my  engagement,  as  a 
school-master,  was  now  expired,  and  Mr.  Woolworth  and 
Judge  Huribut  made  a  visit  to  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
district,  in  order  to  dissuade  them  from  engaging  me 
again  j  however,  this  visit  produced  no  effect ;  my  school 
again  was  full,  and  matters  went  ^n  as  usual  in  that  line. 

At  the  meeting  of  the  proprietors  it  was  proposed  and 
l*eadily  agreed  to  on  our  side,  though  with  great  reluctance 
on  the  part  of  Mr.  Woolworth,  to  fling  by  every  thin«:^ 
which  had  been  done,  and  be^in  anew.  ISIr.  Woolworth 
•had  brought  rorvvaid  at  this  time  a  coUcctlgn  of  books 
much  better  than  formerly,  having  taken  about  tu'eniy  out 
of  the  catalogue  which  I  had  at  first  exhibited.  This  col- 
lection I  generally  recommended,  and  observed  manv 
things  in  its  favor,  but  still  I  off'er.ded  ;  I  was  given  to  un- 
derstand by  Mr.  Woolworth,  that  he  did  not  wish  to  have 
/«■«  catalogue  owe  its  reception  to  my  recommendation. 
Out  of  all  the  catalogues  nov/  present,  we  made  a  selec- 
tion of  books  to  the  mutual  satisfac  ion  of  all  panjes  ;  and 
by  the  way,  every  individual  volume  of  my  first  catalogue 
was  comprised  in  this.  The  books  were  sent  fcv,  aiKl 
matters  seemed  to  subside  into  a  sullen  calm. 


CHAP.  V. 


Ti 


HINGS  remained  in  this  situation  for  some  time  with- 
out any  material  alteration.     The  affairs  of  Judge   H-.r' 

YOL.  II.  G 


66  MEMOIRS  OF 

but  began  to  grow  embarrassed,  and  he  was  often  in  want 
of  money  for  transacting  his  small  necessary  concerns. 
Under  this  situation,  he  proposed  to  a  committee,  which 
we  had  for  the  purpose  of  making  additions  to  the  libra- 
ry, the  sale  of  some  books  out  of  his  private  library.  The 
committee,  upon  his  earnest  recommendation,  purchased 
a  number,  among  which  was  the  "  History  of  Charles 
Wentworth.'*  If  you  have  ever  read  those  volumes,  you 
Vr'ill  recollect  adeistical  treatise  in  one  of  them,  as  severe 
and  ingenious  as  any  extant.  I  heard  soon  of  this  new 
acquisition,  and  on  the  day  for  drawing  books  I  asked  some 
if  they  had  seen  that  book;  they  answered  in  the  nega- 
tive. I  then  turned  to  the  part  referred  to,  and  shewed 
them  some  passages.  Aghast,  in  wild  dismay,  they  start- 
ed back  with  horror  !  Had  Afric's  grim  lion,  with  his 
shaggy  main  erect,  and  jaws  bedaubed  with  blood,  met 
them  full  in  the  way,  they  would  not  have  mani1"ested 
greater  signs  of  fear.  To  see  the  holy  religion  of  their 
ancestors  vilified  thus  by  a  vile  caitif,  enkindled  their  eyes 
>vith  rage,  and  their  cheeks  flushed  with  anger  I  To  see 
their  library,  now  their  common  resource  for  information, 
thus  corrupted  by  the  vilest  heresy,  and  blackest  poison, 
after  they  had  taken  such  unwearied  pains  to  obtain  one, 
pure  -s  nature's  simple  fount,  or  the  gurgling  rill  rolling 
lis  lucid  streams  over  the  brightest  pebbles,  was  a  sight 
which  made  every  feeling  of  holy  wrath  burn  with  fury 
asjainst  the  unknown  traitor.  They  were  loud  in  their 
clamors'to  the  librarian  to  know  who  was  the  author  of 
this  abominable  deed.  At  length,  they  heard  that  Judge 
Hurlbut  was  the  man  ;  he,  who  but  a  little  time  before 
was  so  fearful  of  my  corrupting  the  youth  with  bad  books, 
that  lie  filled  the  whole  country  with  uproar,  lest  I  should 
efiect  such  a  purpose  ;  that  man,  who  was  th«  constant 
companion  and  fePow-luborer  of  Mr  Woolworth  to  keep 
the  librury  pure  from  deistical  writings  ! ! ! 

A  knowledge  of  this  circumstance  flew  with  the  rapidi- 
ty of  lightning  among  the  people.  All  who  had  read  the 
book  condemned  it  to  the  lowest  part  of  perdition,  and  a 
mceling  of  the  proprietors  was  instantly  called,  to  extir- 
pate so  monstrous  a  production  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  67 

When  we  were  once  more  assembled,  Mr.  Woohvorth 
opened  the  busmess  with  a  lengthy  harrangue  upon  the 
subject.  He  labored  the  point  with  the  utmost  exertion, 
to  save  his  friend  from  condemnation.  He  went  largely 
into  the  merits  of  the  book,  and  said,  "  As  but  a  very 
small  part  was  upon  the  deistical  strain,  the  other,  enter- 
taining- narrative,  he  had  no  idea  of  its  being  attended  with 
fatal  consequences,  and  had  it  not  been  for  Burroughs, 
who  is  ever  fond  of  making  mischief,  you  would  not  have 
known  that  the  book  contained  any  thing  bad  in  it  ;  but 
there  is  a  peculiar  strain  of  malignity  in  this  man,  which 
ever  seeks  for  and  embraces  all  opportunities  of  creating 
difficulties  among  the  first  and  best  characters.  He  has 
kept  this  parish  in  an  uproar  almost  ever  since  he  has 
resided  among  us,  and  if  you  continue  to  have  your  minds 
disturbed  by  this  man's  machinations,  you  will  find  the 
parish  soon  ruined   and  broken  to  pieces." 

1  now  ai-ose  in  answer  to  Mr.  Woolworth's  observations, 
and  said,  that  "  I  had  now  heard  some  remarks  which  had 
surprised  me  more  than  any  thing  else  through  the  whole 
course  of  Mr.  Woolworth's  very  extraordinary  conduct. 
It  was  a  justification  of  Judge  Hurlbut  in  that  transaction, 
which  amounted  to  the  whole  of  what  he  had  accused  me, 
though  wrongfully,  of  intending,  and  of  condemning  in 
me  that  conduct  which  he  had  extolled  so  much  in  Judge 
Hurlbut.  But  what  is  the  most  extraordinary,  is  the 
avowed  principle  upon  which  he  justifies  his  fi-iend  the 
Judge.  He  says  you  would  never  have  known  that  the 
book  had  been  a  bad  one  if  I  had  not  told  you  !  !  He  ap- 
pears to  be  entirely  willing  that  you  should  have  bad  books, 
to  be  cheated  out  of  your  money,  to  be  wronged,  imposed 
upon  and  abused,  provided  there  is  nobody  wicked  enough 
to  tell  you.  Is  this  a  doctrine,  gentlemen,  wisich  soui.ds 
agreeable  to  your  ears,  and  particularly  from  your  spiritu- 
al leader,  from  your  guide  aiid  dil-ector  in  the  puiis  of 
truth  ?  If  your  ignorance  would  be  an  antidote  ag.inst  the 
poison  of  such  books  put  into  the  library  by  Judj^e  Hurl- 
but, why  not  the  same  reason  in  my  favor?  Aiid  why  will 
not  the  epithets  of  mischief-making  fellows,  apply  us Veud- 
ily  to  the  reverend  gentleman  and  to  his  friends,  foi'  rep- 


tS  MEMOIRS  OF 

resenting  my  books  in  that  light,  as  what  it  -vrill  to  nie  in 
representing  his  book  in  its  true  light  ?  And  much  more 
so  when  you  take  into  considerasion,  that  their  statements 
are  false,  and  that  mine  have  the  full  force  of  fact  before 
your  eyes.  They  have  taken  the  liberty  upon  bare  suspi- 
cion, to  make  loud  clamors  against  nxy  books,  or  else  they 
pretended  smt/iicion  as  a  cloak  to  cover  some  other  design  ; 
be  it  which  way  it  might,  the  example  is  the  same;  and 
they  have  been  the  leaders  in  it,  therefore  out  of  their  own 
mouths  they  are  condemned. 

"  It  has  ever  remained  with  a  doubt  on  my  mind,  whe- 
ther Mr,  Woolworth  and  Judge  Hurlbut  acted  honestly  in 
the  great  fears  which  they  pretended  to  possess  respecting 
my  choice  of  books  ;  and  as  it  is  necessary  for  you  to 
know  whether  I  do  act  towards  you  openly  and  candidly,  I 
was  very  glad  ot  the  opportunity  which  presented  for  you 
all  to  see  ;uid  judge  for  yourselves.  Let  my  sentiments 
upon  the  book  be  what  they  arc,  I  suppose  it  necessary 
for  you  to  know  its  contents,  and  by  whose  instrumentali- 
ty it  came  into  our  library. 

'•  It  has  been  urged  abundantly  upon  the  other  side, 
I  hat  I  ought  not  to  intermeddle  in  your  concerns,  seeing  I 
am  in  so  great  measure  a  stranger  among  you.  You,  gen- 
tlemen, I  expect  are  the  judges  with  regard  to  this  doc- 
trine, andif  ic  be  founded  in  truth,  then  you  will  undoubt- 
edly withdraw  from  me  that  confidence  which  you  have 
heretofore  placed  in  me. 

"  Whether  the  Rev.  gentleman  and  his  associates  refer 
in  their  reasoning  to  any  known  established  law  or  cus- 
tom of  the  country,  or  to  the  general  nature  of  the  matter, 
I  know  not.  If  the  former,  I  would  thank  them  to  point 
it  out ;  if  the  latter,  I  will  observe  that  they  themselves 
are  not  natives  of  this  place,  and  what  particular  period 
they  have  fixed  for  a  previous  residence  before  one  may 
be  concerned  in  public  matters,  I  would  likewise  thank 
them  to  describe.  For  my  oAvn  part  I  can  see  none,  es- 
pecially in  matters  that  are  clear  and  obvious  to  every 
common  understanding.  Why  a  man  should  be  prohibit- 
ed from  contributing  his  assistance  to  the  public  welfare 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  69 

because  he  is  a  stranger,  is  a  mode  of  reasoning  beyond 
my  reach. 

"  Finally,  gentlemen,  the  whole  course  of- treatment 
which  I  have  received  from  Mr.  Woolworth  and  Judge 
Hurlbut,  from  the  first  commencement  of  the  plan  for  a 
library,  has  been  injurious,  abusive,  unmanly  and  indecent ; 
yet  their  conduct  on  the  present  occasion  oversteps  all  the 
former  instances,  in  its  glaring  wickedness.  You,  gentle- 
men, have  the  book  before  you,  you  understand  its  nature. 
I  wish  to  have  you  treat  it  accordiag  to  your  discretion.  I 
feel  no  anxiety  about  it  on  my  own  account." 

It  was  then  motioned  to  have  some  of  the  obnoxious 
passages  read  before  the  meeting,  but  this  was  overruled 
by  Mr.  Woolworth,  Judge  Hurlbut,  Capt.  Post  and  Dr. 
Rose.  It  was  then  put  to  vote,  whether  the  book  in  dis- 
pute should  be  excluded  the  library,  and  the  negative  was 
obtained  by  a  la^'ge  majority.  The  truth  was  this  :  there 
had  been  so  much  said  respecting  the  book,  that  each  in- 
dividual vras  anxious  to  gratify  his  curiosity  by  seeing  this 
phenomenon  ;  and  each  one  vvho  had  read  it,  was  more 
afraid  for  others  than  for  himseii^,  therefore  it  was  deter- 
mined that  the  book  should  remain  a  member  of  the  libra- 
ry, in  order  for  each  one  to  be  gratified  by  the  perusal. 

The  Sunday  following,  Mr.  Vv'oohvorth  took  up  the 
subject  in  the  pulpit,  and  labored  through  the  duy  to  con- 
vince the  people  that  it  was  their  duty  to  banish  me  from 
their  coasts.  After  the  exercises  of  the  public  service 
were  over,  I  addressed  the  people,  and  endeavored  to  con- 
fute the  ideas  brought  forward  by  their  clergyman,  and  to 
shew  the  injurious  nature  of  his  treatment  concerning  me, 
and  the  unrighteous  conduct  which  he  had  been  guilty  of 
from  time  to  time,  and  especially  his  falsehood  and  dupli- 
city in  going  contrary  to  his  promise  at  the  time  of  my 
mieeting  his  committee  for  the  purpose  of  a  union.  Dea- 
con Hedges  demanded  of  me  whether  I  meant  to  accuse 
Mr.  Woolworth  with  lying.  I  answered  that  I  did.  The 
Deacon  then  answered  in  a  menacing  manner,  "  we  will 
see  who  lies.  It  is  high  time  for  us  to  stir  ii  it  is  come  ta 
this,  that  our  minister  must  be  accused  of  lying.'' 
G  2 


70  -     MEMOIRS  or 

The  next  day  I  saw  a  large  gathering  at  the  house  of 
Dr.  Rose,  and  curiosity  led  me  among  them,  to  learn  the 
occasion  of  so  large  a  meeting  of  people  without  any  pub- 
lic day  or  appointment.  Upon  entering  the  house,  I  per- 
cci<*ed  Deacon  Hedges  addressing  the  people  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner  :  "  One  Burroughs  has  come  into  Bridg- 
hampton,  and  conducted  in  a  very  o^s^ro/zo/ow*  manner; 
he  has  accused  otir  minister  with  lying,  and  isauniversel- 
ler.  He  is  a  very  bad  parson,  for  be  was  whipt  and  cropt 
and  branded  in  his  own  country  for  a  rape,  and  he  has  act- 
ed a  great  deal  worse  here  than  he  did  there,  for  he  has 
quarrelled  with  the  minister,  and  said  he  lied,  and  has  tried 
to  break  up  the  town.  They  turned  him  out  of  their  coun- 
try, and  we  must  turn  him  out  of  our  town,  for  he's  a  vile 
feilow,  and  not  fit  to  live  among  us,  and  ought  to  be  kicked 
out  of  town  long  ago." 

Mr.  Halsey  was  present,  and  answered  the  Deacon  in 
the  following  manner,  (viz.)  "  Do  you  expect.  Deacon 
Hedges,  that  Mr.  Burroughs'  leaving  this  town  will  settle 
the  difficulties  prevailing  here  ?  If  you  do,  you  mistake 
the  point.  Mr.  Woolworth  has  been  guilty  of  open  and 
premeditated  falsehood,  and  Mr.  Burroughs  has  brought 
the  accusation  justly  against  him.  These  are  truths  to 
which  I  am  personally  knowing,  and  to  which  I  can  bring 
a  number  of  substantial  witnesses  ;  therefore,  the  scandal 
will  lie  upon  your  minister,  notwithstanding  all  your  per- 
secution against  Mr.  Burroughs  ;  and  whilst  you  are  thus 
endeavoring  to  injure  him,  you  involve  yourself  in  still 
greater  difficulty,  and  will  have  the  blot  of  disgrace  more 
apparent  on  your  minister,  than  what  it  would  be,  had  you 
let  this  business  rested  easy  as  possible."  "Dare  you, 
^Ir.  Halsey,"  said  Deacon  Hedges,  "  take  the  part  of  that 
villain?"  "  I  dare,"  replied  Mr.  Halsey,  "  advocate  the 
cause  of  injured  innocence,  wherever  I  find  it,  let  the 
])c\\erofthe  oppressor  be  ever  so  great."  At  this  Capt, 
Post  made  towards  iSir.  Halsey  in  a  swaggering  manner, 
i^nving  him  to  understand  that  he  would  chastise  him  for 
his  insolence  :-but  being  mistaken  in  the  person  whom  he 
undertook  to  frighten,,  he  tamely  shrunk  back  to  his  seat. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  r\ 

Judge  Hurlbut  now  proposed  the  plan  of  bringing  an  ac- 
tion of  slander  against  me,  for  charging  Mr.  Weolworth 
with  lying,  before  the  Supreme  Court,  "  And  there,*' 
said  he,  "we  will  twist  him,  unless  he  will  retract  what 
he  has  said,  and  confess  that  he  has  been  the  author  of  all 
the  difficulty  in  Bridghampton." 

I  was  at  this  time  so  profoundly  ignorant  of  law  cases, 
that  I  did  not  know  to  the  contrary  but  what  an  action 
would  lie  in  this  case ;  and  that  a  Judge  of  the  Court  should 
be  equally  ignorant,  was  a  circumstance  to  me  of  no  small 
surprise ;  yet  so  it  was  that  the  learned  Judge  really 
thought  an  action  of  slander  would  lie  against  me,  for  ac- 
cusing his  minister  with  lying. 

However,  the  terror  of  a  law-suit  did  not  produce  the 
desired  effect,  and  the  meeting  broke  up  in  confusion. 
The  Bext  day  tlie  following  letter  was  received  by  Mr. 
Wool  worth,  from  Deacon  Cook. 

Bridgham/iton^  May  2  8 ^/z ,   1793. 

To  Mr.  WOOLWORTH. 

S'/i?, 

I  have  thought,  ever  since  we  were  both  on  the  library 
committee,  that  you  were  unjusUy  trying  to  make  conten-- 
tion,  and  if  possible,  a  division  among  the  proprietors  ;  and 
I  am  witness  that  you  pushed  hard  for  a  division  into  par- 
ties, in  sending  for  the  books,  for  no  other  reason  than 
because  you  could  not  gain  the  sovereignty  of  putting  in 
or  shutting  out  such  books  as  you  thought  fit.  I  tell  you 
plainly,  sir,  that  your  authority,  or  knowledge  in  wisdom 
and  grace  is  not  sufficient  to  rule  men's  consciences  at 
such  a  rate.  It  is  evident  that  because  you  could  not  do 
these  things  and  beat  Mr.  Burroughs,  you  are  pursuing 
Haman's  plan  to  hang  poor  Mordecai. 

It  is  a  truth  apparent  to  your  hearers,  that  in  preaching 
and  in  conversation  you  envy  Mr.  Burroughs,  and  try  to 
get  him  away  ;  but  we  defy  your  rage,  and  teil  you  plain- 
ly that  he  has  as  good  a  right  to  stay  here  as  you,  or  even 
your  friend  the  learned  Judge.  We  know  ]Mr.  Burroughs 
bus  benefited  this  people  ten  times  as  much  as  ever  you 


72  MEMOIRS  OF 

did.  You  could  not  have  obtained  a  library  without  his 
assistance.  If  we  may  judge  by  your  behavior,  were  the 
laws  of  the  land  on  your  side,  a  persecuting  Saul  would 
not  go  before  you.  Does  this  behavior  comport  with  the 
principles  you  fir et end  to  preach  ? 

I  believe,  were  the  case  put  to  trial,  there  would  be  as 
many  votes  for  your  leaving  this  town,  as  there  would  be 
for  Burroughs.  Look  at  your  congregation.  There  you 
may  see  that  things  do  not  wear  the  face  of  union,  but  the 
people  will  not  tell  you  these  things  decidedly  ;  they  are 
not  plain  and  faithful  to  you. 

We  cannot  but  notice  how  true  your  zeal  has  been  in 
carefully  guarding  against  bad  books.  Look  at  that  abom- 
inable blasphemous  one  which  the  Judge  put  into  our  li- 
brary !  I  tell  you  that  until  you  have  taken  up  these  stum- 
bling blocks,  you  can  never  be  my  minister.  Such  peo- 
ple as  you,  say  and  do  not. 

You  may  set  your  heart  at  rest.  Mr.  Burroughs  is  able 
to  maintain  by  argument  or  even  a  regular  life,  so  far  as 
w-e  know  him,  his  own  cause,  against  any  accusation  which 
you  can  bring. 

I  don't  wonder  that  St.  Paul  charged  Timothy  about  re- 
ceiving a  novice^  who  is  in  danger  of  being  puffed  up. 
Pray  let  you  and  I  think  seriously  of  these  things. 

J.  COOK. 

After  this  letter  had  been  read  by  Mr.  Woolworth,  it 
was  at  once  determined  to  call  in  counsel ;  therefore  Judge 
Hurlbut,  Deacon  Hedges,  and  Capt.  Post  were  called  up- 
on to  weigh  and  determine  upon  this  important  letter. 
After  they  had  gone  largely  and  learnedly  into  the  busi- 
ness, it  was  voted,  nem.  con.  to  be  a  libel  against  govern- 
ment, and  that  it  ought  to  be  burnt  by  the  common  hang- 
man. They  further  determined,  after  the  most  candid 
investigation  of  the  subject,  that  no  way  remained  for  a 
settlement  of  these  sore  and  grievous  difficulties,  but  by 
expelling  me,  who  was  the  author  of  all  iniquity,  from  the 
coasts ;  it  was  therefore  determined  on  the  next  Sunday 
to  warn  a  parish  meeting  for  the  aforesaid  purpose. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  73 

The  business  was  a^ain  resumed  by  Mr.  W.  in  the  pul- 
pit, where  he  went  largely  into  the  propriety  of  not  suffer- 
ing such  a  person  as  I  was  to  remain. in  town,  and  more 
particularly  to  teach  a  school.  After  the  meeting  was 
ended,  Deacon  Hedges  mentioned  the  parish-meeting  to 
be  held  on  the  Thursday  following,  "  for  the  purpose  of 
clearing  Rev.  IMr.  Woolworth's  character  from  the  charge 
of  one  Burroughs." 

On  the  day  appointed,  the  parish,  together  with  a  num- 
ber of  spectators  out  of  town,  vrere  universally  convened  at 
the  meeting-house.  Deacon  Hedges  opened  the  meeting 
with  some  abusive  language  against  my  conduct,  and  im- 
mediately Mr.  Wooiworth  arose  and  addressed  the  assem- 
bly in  a  speech  of  an  hour's  length,  where  he  exhausted 
all  his  powers  of  abuse,  in  pouring  forth  the  most  vilifying 
epithets  against  me,  which  language  could  form,  appar- 
ently intending  to  bury  the  idea  of  his  own  guilt  in  the 
odium  cast  on  me  ;  however,  his  rage  in  this  attempt  was 
detrimental  to  his  health ;  it  proved  a  powerful  emetic, 
and  this  stopped  his  career. 

After  he  had  ended,  I  arose  to  reply  in  answer,  but  the 
house,  which  before  was  profoundly  silent,  was  now  in  a 
state  of  uproar,  from  the  confused  noise^  of  talking,  by  his 
partizans,  and  by  repeated  orders  to  me  from  Deacon 
Hedges  and  Judge  Hurlbut  to  be  brief.  This  produced  a 
resentment  on  the  side  of  my  friends,  which  flung  the 
house  into  an  uproar,  which  continued  for  some  time ;  and 
my  utmost  endeavors  were  necessary  to  prevent  a  serious 
engagement  between  the  two  parties. 

After  this  was  in  some  measure  appeased,  Deacon 
Hedges  proceeded  to  tell  all  who  were  for  Mr.  Wooiworth 
to  draw  off  upon  the  east  end  of  the  meeting-house,  where 
about  one  third  of  the  congregation  retired,  and  the  rest 
kept  their  seats.  Seeing  this  did  not  answer  his  purpose, 
he  ordered  all  those  who  v/ere  for  Burroughs,  to  go  to  the 
west;  at  which  an  equal  number  went  to  the  othet  end, 
and  the  remainder  retired  out  of  the  house.  After  this, 
those  at  the  cast  end  of  the  meeting-house  proceeded  to 
choose  a  committee  of  twelve,  to  take  such  raeaourcs  as 
they  should  deem  necessary  to  settle  the  difficulties  and 


74  MEMOIRS  OF 

clear  Mr.  Woolworth's  character.     The  leading  members 
of  thi3  committee  were  Deacon  Hedges,  Capt.  Post,  Sec. 

The  next  day  at  evening,  the  fc>llo\ying  paper  was  hand- 
ed to  me. 

"  At  a  meeting  of  a  committee,  chosen  by  the  parish  of 
Bridghampton,  for  the  purpose  of  clearing  up  the  charac- 
ter of  Rev.  Aaron  Woohvorth,  held  at  the  chamber  of  Dr. 
S.  H.  Rose. 

DANIEL  HOWELL,  Moderator. 
HENRY  PIERSON,  Clerk. 

1st.  Voted,  that  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  safety  of  the 
parish  of  Bridghampton,  to  have  Stephen  BuiToughs  re- 
main an  inhabitant  in  it  any  longer. 

2nd.  That  if  Stephen  Burroughs  do  not  remove  by  the 
17thofTie::t  month,  this  committee  will  take  such  mea- 
sures as  they  shall  see  fi:  in  order  to  remove  him. 

3d.  That  Stephen  Burroughs  be  served  \^*ilh  a  copy  of 
these  resolves  of  the  committee. 

HENRY  PIERSON,  Clerk. 
Bridghampton,  May  50th,  1793.'* 

I  know,  sir,  you  will  smile  tU  this  dull  of  th%  Bridghamp- 
ton committee,  and  at  their  profound  erudition  in  law 
knowledge,  considering  they  hati  a  Judge  for  their  coun- 
sellor in  all  their  proceedings.  This  peremptory  mandate 
had  but  little  effect  on  my  conduct.  But  I  found  my  neigh- 
bors, and  the  parents  of  my  scholars  were  much  alarmed 
at  the  event.  They  were  afraid  the  power  which  the  com- 
mittee assumed,  was  absolutely  in  their  hands,  and  that  I 
should  be  turned  out  of  town  by  might  and  main.  These 
matters  disturbed  my  school  for  some  time  ;  reports  be« 
ing  frequently  circulated  by  the  adverse  party,  that  I  was 
about  flinging  by  all  business,  and  would  forthwith  move 
out  of  town.  Yet  after  a  while  the  inhabitants  found  that 
my  school  would  continue  steadily,  and  therefore  they  sent 
their  children. 

The  1 7th  of  next  month,  the  time  appointed  by  the  com- 
mittee for  my  removal,  dravving  nigh,  and  no  signs  of  my 
obedience  being  manifested,  it  was  thought  necessary  for 
Judge  Hurlbut  to  gain  further  light  into  the  powers  of  the 
committee,  and  what  course  they  must  take  in  order  to 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  75 

effect  their  purpose.  He  according])-  applied  to  Ezra  L*- 
Homedieu,  Esq.  clerk  of  the  court,  and  from  him  received 
information  that  the  only  mean  of  effecting  their  purpose 
was,  to  expel  me  by  the  fiooract.  Big  with  this  informa- 
tion, the  learned  Judge  returned  to  his  constituents  and 
made  his  report.  Daniel  Howell,  the  moderator  of  said 
committee,  then  signed  a  complaint,  directed  to  Judge 
Hurlbut  and  Henry  Pierson,  Justices  of  the  Peace,  alledg- 
iiig  that  I  had  no  sufficient  means  for  the  maintenance  of 
myself  and  family,  and  consequently  was  in  danger  of  be- 
ing chargeable  to  the  town  for  a  maintenance,  and  prayed 
for  my  removal  therefrom.  Accordingly  an  order  was 
granted  by  these  two  Justices  for  my  apprehension  and  ap- 
pearance before  them  forthwith.  The  order  was  execut- 
ed, and  I  was  brought  before  them,  when  they  inquired 
with  great  magisterial  importance,  w  hat  business  I  follow- 
ed for  a  living,  and  what  means  I  had  for  support.  After 
they  had  gone  through  with  their  interrogatories,  they 
withdrew,  and  in  about  fi^  minutes  returned  and  inform- 
ed me,  that  in  their  opinion  I  was  liable  to  become  a  town 
charge,  and  therefore  ordered  me  to  remove  by  the  20th 
of  July,  and  on  failure,  declared  they  should  grant  their 
order  for  my  removal. 

I  was  ignorant  of  the  statute  of  New-York  upon  this 
subject,  therefore  applied  to  an  attorney  living  in  South- 
hold,  about  14  miles  distant,  for  counsel  and  information. 
The  contents  of  which  were  contained  in  a  letter  received 
from  him  a  few  days  after. 
Sir, 

Having  made  a  bona  fide  purchase  of  the  value  of  thirty- 
pounds,  you  have  gained  a  legal  settlement,  from  which 
you  cannot  be  legally  removed  ;  therefore,  should  you  be 
illegally  removed,  demand  and  take  a  copy  of  the  warrant, 
and  give  notice  to  one  or  more  of  the  overseers  in  writing 
that  you  appeal  from  said  order  to  the  General  Sessions 
of  the  Peace,  to  be  holden  at  Southold  on  the  first  Tues- 
day in  October  next,  of  which  take  a  copy  and  be  able  to 
prove  the  service  :  also  give  notice  in  like  manner  to  the 
signers  of  said  warrant,  that  unless  satisfaction  is  made 
you  within  one  month,  you  shall  commence  an  action 


76  MEMOIRS  OF 

against  them  for  the  recovery  of  the  damages  you  have 
sustained  by  your  illegal  apprehension,  confinement  and 
removal ;  and  if  satisfaction  be  not  made,  I  think  it  advis- 
able to  prosecute  both  the  signers  and  executors  of  such 
ivarrant.     I  am,  8cc.  DANIEL  OSBORN. 

July,  17th,  1793. 

Upon  this  information  I  strained  my  credit  with  my 
friends,  and  by  the  addition  of  my  own  little  savings,  raised 
the  thirty  pounds,  which  I  immediately  appropriated  to 
the  purchase  of  land.  Information  of  this  I  transmitted 
to  the  Justices,  and  likewise  a  notification  of  my  appeal 
from  their  judgment  to  the  Court  of  Sessions.  However, 
one  thing  had  almost  escaped  my  memory,  viz.  the  even- 
ing following  my  examination  before  the  Justices,  I  wait- 
ed on  Judge  Huribut,  with  two  of  my  neighbors,  men  of 
substantial  property,  who  offered  to  give  any  security 
which  should  be  required,  to  indemnify  the  town  from 
any  charges  on  account  of  me  and  my  family.  This  was 
done  that  the  world  might  be  satisfied  how  consistently 
these  men  acted  in  obedience  to  the  oath  of  a  Justice  of 
the  Peace,  in  trying  to  remove  me  under  a  pretence  of 
fear  of  my  becoming  chargeable  to  the  to?/ii  through  pov- 
erty.    They  refused  to  accept  the  security. 

When  the  committee  were  informed  of  my  becoming 
a  freeholder,  they  appeared  much  disconcerted,  and  at  a 
loss  what  measures  next  to  pursue.  Matters  rested  in  si- 
lence for  some  time,  and  I  was  apprehciisive  that,  baffled 
in  their  measures,  they  had  given  up  their  object  in  des- 
pair ;  however,  they  still  held  their  meetings  in  secret, 
and  to  the  great  entertainment  of  the  curious,  a  neighbor- 
ing woman  of  infamous  character  frequently  met  with 
them.  At  length  I  was  notified  by  one  of  the  committee, 
who  came  to  my  house  on  the  business,  that  Mrs.  Al- 
dridge,  the  name  of  the  woman,  had  sworn  a  rape  against 
me  before  Judge  Huribut,  and  that  unless  I  absconded 
immediately,  1  should  be  taken  by  a  warrant,  which  had 
already  been  granted,  and  was  now  in  the  hands  of  the 
constable. 

My  family  were  very  much  terrified  at  this  unexpect- 
ed stroke  of  infernal  conduct.     My  neig!ibors  flocked  in 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  77 

and  advised  me  immediately  to  decamp  and  leave  the 
country,  in  order  to  save  my  life  ;  "  for,"  said  they,  '•  Mr. 
Woolworth  and  his  party  will  take  your  life,  let  the  event 
be  what  it  may.'* 

I  thought  the  better  way  however,  not  yet  to  leave  the 
country,  but  risk  the  eveRT.  I  knew  the  consequences  of 
taking  such  a  step.  The  party  against  me  would  then  be 
gratified  in  every  wish.  They  would  see  me  driven  away, 
loaded  with  the  greatest  infamy,  and  themselves  posses- 
sing every  advantage  to  bury  their  own  wickedness  under 
the  odium  which  they  would  cast  on  me,  und  none  could 
prevent  it. 

As  this  was  a  matter  wholly  unfounded  in  truth,  I  did 
not  believe  the  abilities  of  the  woman  whom  they  hud  cho- 
sen as  the  instrument  of  their  wickedness,  sulTicient  to 
carry  the  business  through,  without  detection  ;  and  Mr. 
Ilalsey  assured  me  that  he  would  render  me  every  assist- 
ance in  his  power  through  the  trial.  I  therefore  waited 
patiently  the  arrival  of  the  ofTicer,  expectin,^  to  be  cnn  ied 
to  jail,  to  remain  until  the  sitting  of  the  next  supreme  court 
of  jVisi  Prius. 

This  circumstance  prevented  the  continu:ince  of  my 
school.  None  expected  I  could  attend  to  any  busines::; 
aguin  until  after  court.  I  waited  in  this  situation  a  number 
of  days  without  any  further  movement.  I  was  surprized 
at  not  being  yet  served  with  the  warrant  ;  however,  after 
a  time,  I  heard  the  warrant  was  not  founded  upon  the  crime 
of  rape,  but  of  an  "  assault  with  -dn  intent  to  ravish  ;"  ^'  O  1'* 
said  I,  "  You  are  about  endeavoring  to  bring  the  Worces- 
ter scene  again  into  view  ;  a  pattern  well  suitea  for  such 
vile  purposes  1"  This  being  a  baikbie  raatter,  I  gave  over 
tlie  idea  of  a  jail. 

\Vhether  the  warrant  grantedjn  the  first  place  by  Judge 
Kurlbut  was  for  the  crime  of  ravibhment,  and  afterwards 
lie  thought  it  better  calculated  to  answer  his  purpose,  to 
lay  his  crime  in  the  warrant  on  a  lower  grade,  or  whether 
the  warrant  was  the  same  and  the  report  incorrect,  I  can- 
not determine. 

The  officer  not  yet  making  his  appearance  to  serve  th<^ 
warrant,  I  was  determined  to  go  to  him,  that  the  dif^culiy 

VOL.  II.  H 


rs  MEMOIRS  OF 

might  terminate,  and  I  be  in  a  condition  again  to  attend  to 
iny  school.  I  accordingly  went  to  his  house,  and  desired 
him  to  serve  his  precept,  if  he  had  one  in  his  possession. 
He  of  consequence  made  me  a  prisoner,  but  added,  that  as 
lie  was  then  busy,  he  could  not  attend  to  go  with  me  ])e- 
fore  Judge  Hurlbut,  and  desired  that  I  would  meet  him 
there  at  sunsetting,  and  give  in  my  bail.  I  told  him  that 
I  would  comply  with  his  request,  but  added,  "  that  I  felt  a 
little  surprized  to  be  treated  in  such  a  manner,  after  being 
apprehended  on  a  criminal  process.  That  I  had  been 
made  a  prisoner  before  on  such  an  occasion,  but  had  ever 
been  guarded  with  the  most  sedulous  attention."  Gel- 
ston,  the  oflicer,  replied,  "that  in  common  cases  he  con- 
ducted very  differently  ;  but  under  present  circumstances, 
if  I  made  my  escape  and  left  the  island,  he  would  be  an- 
swerable for  all  the  difficulty  which  should  arise,  and  if  I 
%yas  determined  to  stay,  he  had  no  doubt  of  my  meeting 
him  according  to  agreement. 

I  expostulated  with  him  upon  the  wickedness  of  the 
conduct  to  which  he  had  become  an  abettor.  "  You  Mr. 
Gelston  have  bound  yourself  by  oath  to  execute  the  func- 
tions of  your  office  without  partiality,  affection  or  favor. 
The  nature  of  this  office  is  to  preserve  the  peace,  appre- 
hend and  secure  offenders,  £cc.  and  every  idea  attached  to 
your  office  is  comprised  in  this  general  conduct,  viz.  tct 
guard  the  innocent  from  the  attacks  and  injuries  of  the 
v.'icked.  This  being  the  general  complexion  of  yoiir  du- 
ty, are  you  not  prostituting  yourself  to  the  vilest  of  mea- 
sures, by  being  instrumental  in  prosecuting  those  plans 
wliich  are  so  notoriously  founded  in  v/rong,  as  infiuencing 
your  conduct  towards  me  in  such  a  manner  as  to  throv/  a 
temptation  in  m.y  way  to  elude  the  decision  of  law  upon 
tliis  business,  thereby  declaring  this  to  be  the  object  of  the 
party  whom  you  serve  ?  Is  not  the  language  of  the  party, 
to  whose  service  you  are  devoted,  so  notorious  that  you 
have  not  mistaken  its  meaning  ?  viz.  that  they  are  not 
c,Tieved  for  any  law  which  they  apprehend  is  broken  ;  that 
they  are  not  desirous  for  the  punishment  of  an  off'ender  ; 
but  are  anxious  to  lay  hold  of  any  pretence  to  get  rid  of  a 
r^an  whose  openness  they  feur,  and  from  whose  resolution 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  7  J 

they  shrink  back  abashed.  What  shall  we  think  of  a  mar., 
irho  being  u  Judge  of  the  court  and  Justice  of  the  Peace, 
shall  conduct  in  the  manner  which  Judge  HurJbut  has 
done,  and  that  too  in  such  a  notorious  manner,  that  not  y. 
child  in  Bridghampton  but  wh^t  would  be  at  once  sensible 
that  every  purpose  would  be  -answered  in  his  mind,  should 
I  leave  the  country  ;  and  moreover  you  would  be  justified, 
nay,  be  applauded  for  giving  me  the  opportunity,  and  bein;^ 
instrumental  in  furthering  my  escape." 

Mr.  Gelston  barely  observed,  "  that  lie  felt  no  great  in- 
clination to  enter  into  inquiries  respecting  the  motives  by 
which  those  were  actuated  who  gi-anled  precepts.  He 
should  ever  obey  themo  aiul  leave  ihe  consequences  to 
those  who  granted  them.'* 

We  parted,  and  at  the  time  appointed  I  met  Gelston  at 
the  house  of  Judge  Hurlbut,  in  compdny  with  Mr.  Halsey, 
who  became  my  security  in  the  sum  of  one  hundred  pounds 
for  my  appearance  at  the  court  of  Quarter  Sessions.  I 
found  Jud,-:;e  Hurlbut  determined  to  recognize  me  to  ap- 
pear beCorc  that  court,  ot  which  he  was  Judge;  rather  than 
before  the  court  of  Nisi  Prius,  which  sat  sometime  sooner, 
and  wiiich  uiways  took  cogniz?.nce  of  matters  of  fcuch  a 
nature.* 

After  matters  had  progressed  to  this  point,  I  found  my 
enemies  extremely  mortified  at  their  terminating  so  dii'-^ 
lerently  from  their  calculations.  I  again  resumed  mv 
school  and  continued  for  some  time  in  peace;  but  the 
tongue  of  slander  did  not  cease,  the  exe?uons  of  iny  ene- 
mies for  my  destruction  did  not  abate;  th4:y  now  saw  that 
the  matter  must  come  to  trial  before  a  court  of  Judica- 
ture, respecting  the  crime  for  which  I  stood  charged  ; 
therefore  they  determined  to  affect  that  by  prejudice  in 
which  they  should  fail  by  testimony. 

After  holding  frequent  meetings  in  company  Avith  Mrs. 
Aldridge,  the   comniittee  resolved  that  ISIr.  Wooiworth 

"  It  will  be  well  to  notice,  that  no  court  of  inqviest  v.'as  cverlield 
by  Judge  Hurlbut  upon  this  business  AvJien  1  was  picsent,  feariiii^  I 
suppose  to  brings  the  witness  before  me,  lest  I  sliould  gain  i.ouie 
advantage,  by  iier  telling  those  things  %Thich  v.-ould  militate  i^g-his': 
tha  cause  afterv.'ards. 


«o  MEMOIRS  OF 

should  make  a  journey  to  Massachusetts  and  effect  an  in- 
vestigation of  the  reports  there  in  circulation  against  me, 
and  bring  them  forward  to  Long-Island  under  such  a  col- 
oring as  to  take  hold  of  the  minds  of  people  in  that  place  ; 
Mr.  Wcolworth  accordingly  sat  out  on  his  7nimsterial 
mission. 

When  he  arrived  in  the  state  of  Massachusette,  he  be- 
gan his  complaints  in  the  bitterest  manner,  stating  that  I 
iiad  ccme  to  Bndghampton,  and  after  being  used  by  him 
in  the  kindest  and  most  humane  manner,  I  had  returned 
the  blackest  ingratitude  ;  had  made  difficulty  among  his 
people,  and  endeavored  to  effect  all  the  disturbance  possi- 
ble ;  had  endeavored  to  deceive  the  people  about  my  for- 
ir.er  character,  Sec. 

Under  this  view,  he  requested  a  Mr.  Storrs,  minister 
«  f  Longmeadow,  who  was  bound  to  Hanover,  to  call  on  Mr. 
IVheelock,  President  of  Dartmouth  College,  and  after  re- 
lating to  him  the  enormity  of  my  conduct  on  Long-Island, 
request  a  statement  of  my  character  in  writing  from  him. 
True  to  his  trust,  Mr.  Storrs  called  on  Mr.  Wheelock, 
and  made  known  his  business,  without  any  hesitation,  or 
regard  to  the  feelings  of  delicacy,  notwithstanding  my  fa- 
ther was  present  at  the  time  ;  however,  for  an  excuse  foF 
Mr.  Storrs,  perhaps  he  had  been  led  into  the  general  er- 
ror which  Mr.  Woolworth  had  spread  among  his  acqu-un- 
tance,  Tiz.  that  my  father  had  become  my  inveterate  fee, 
V.  isliing  me  in  prison  rather  than  at  large. 

Mr.  Wheeiock  remarked  to  Mr.  Storrs  the  impro- 
7'iety  of  his  intermeddling  in  a  contention  between  Mr. 
Vv'ooWorth  and  me,  aud  declined  doing  any  thing  in  the 
business.  ri?uil-ly,  after  a  puinfcl  and  laborious  pur- 
suit after  somellilng  to  answe-i-  his  purpose,  I\Ir.  WooN 
^Torth  retun)«!d  home,  wiJi  only  his  own  story,  Avhich  lis 
had  inseited  in  a  Springfield  paper,  in  order  to  give  the 
'-'.isiness  a  little  less  the  appearance  of  design,  and  brought 

;\t  paper  to  one  Frothingham,  printer  of  Sagg-IIarbor, 
i';r  him  to  republish  in  the  Long-Island  Herald.  This 
curious  publication  was  in  the  following  words: 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  81 

S/iring-Jzeidy  ( Masmcliuactts ) ^  June  25th. 

"  The  celebrated  Mr.  Biirroii.^hs,  who^  some  yours 
since  was  convicted  of  counteifeiung  hard  money  ziv\ 
passing  of  it  in  this  town  ; — of  borrowinj^  u  certain  worth;- 
parson*s  garments,  watch,  &c.  under  pretence  of  being  u 
clergyman  and  clad  in  a  manner  unsuitable  for  him  toper- 
form  the  sacred  functions  of  his  office,  and  leavin;^  his  be- 
nevolent friend  in  exchange  for  those  articles,  this  coriso. - 
utory  text,  "  thou  shalt  seek  me  early  but  find  me  not,'*  i^ 
now  on  Long-Island,  in  the  state  ofXe\y-York,  takin,:, 
care  of  a  large  school.  This  villain,  after  spending  a  few 
ag-reeaiie  summers  on  Castle-Island,  in  consequence  of 
counterfeiting,  committing  theft,  5cc.  attain  saiiied  fortli 
into  the  country  in  order  for  a  chan:^-e  of  amusements. 

"  By  his  artful  insinuations  and  through  the  credulity  of 
thic  inhabitants  of  the  town  of  Dudley,  in  the  county  of 
Worcester,  he  procured  the  charge  of  a  school,  a  trust  of 
the  most  delicate  nature.  Here  he  had  an  excellent  op- 
portunity of  "  teaching  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot  1"  he 
improved  it,  and  presently  after  was  lodged  in  the  prisou 
at  Worcester,  tried  on  three  separate  indictments  for  at- 
tempts to  commit  rapes  on  the  bodies  of  his  young  female 
scholars,  was  convicted  and  sentenced  accordingly.  Two 
thirds  of  his  punishment  vv'^as  inflicted,  and  a  day  appointed 
on  which  he  v/as  to  receive  the  remainder  ;  previous  t'j 
which  he  broke  jail  and  made  hi-:;  escape.'*  ^ 

How  this  conduct  may  appear  to  you,  sir,  I  cannot  tell, 
i/at  to  me  it  seemed  a  stretch  of  v/ickedness  beyond  paral- 
lel, taking  into  view  the  circumstance  of  Mr.  Woolworth's 
keing  acquainted  vvith  this  f^ict,  viz.  that  the  greater  par: 
of  this  advertisement  was  entirely  false,  and  done  with  an 
intention  of  creating  an  invincible  prejudice  in  the  mindi 
of  those,  before  wiom  my  cause  of  assault  muat  soon  conix; 
for  triul.  Added  to  this,  tlie  cry  was  raised  against  me, 
that  I  was  abandoned  by  all  ray  foi-mer  acquaintance,  even 
by  my  own  parents,  being  despised,  rejected  and  entirely 
disowned  by  them.  This  assertion  was  made  by  Mr. 
Woohvcrth,  in  iae  most  positive  and  categorical  terms. 
In  the  midst  of  this  uproar  and  clamor,  iny  father,  motho:, 
and  wife's  father,  came  to  Bridg;hampton,  on  a  visit, —  .V- 
u  2 


83  MEMOIRS  OF 

bashed  and  dismayed,  my  enemies  slunk  into  silence  ;  my 
friends,  ^7ho  had  heard  these  dismal  reports,  no\r  came 
fiockino-  to  my  house  in  order  to  satisfy  themselves  in  whe^t 
manner  I  was  treated  by  my  own  parents. 

Abo«t  this  time  the  sitting  of  the  Court  of  Nisi  Prius 
took  place,  at  which  presided  the  Hon.  Judge  Lansing^, 
Nathaniel  Lawrence,  Esq.  Attorney-General.  I  attended 
this  court,  in  order  to  lay  the  libellous  publication  pro- 
(hiced  by  Mr.  Woolworth,  as  above  statefl,  before  the 
Grand  Jury,  in  order  for  them  to  prosecute  as  a  breach  of 
the  laws  of  the  state.  I  waited  on  Mr.  Lawrence  in  the 
iirst  instance,  and  laid  the  matter  before  him,  uikI  receiv- 
ed his  decided  opinion,  that  the  matter  was  a  notorious 
]-;reach  of  the  law  of  the  state,  and  ought  to  be  prosecut- 
ed. However,  immediately  after  I  had  left  Mr.  Lawrence, 
Judge  Hnrlbut  entered  into  private  conversation  with 
him ;  and  I  Iieard  them  very  earnest  in  their  discourse, 
but  could  not  distinguish  the  meaning  of  their  words. 
The  next  day  Mr.  Lawrence  sent  for  me  and  gave  me  to 
understand,  "  that  he  should  not  assist  in  bringing  for- 
ward a  bill  of  indictment  on  the  subject  of  my  complaint. 
That  he  had  been  informed  by  Judge  Hurlbut  that  the 
matter  contained  in  the  publication  wjs  true,  and  that  my 
conduct  had  been  of  a  similar  nature  since  I  had  residisd 
on  Long.-Island  ;  that  I  was  now  bound  over  to  Court  for 
a  crime  of  a  most  enormous  and  as2:gravated  nature,  of 
whicK  there  was  not  the  least  hesitating  doubt  of  ray  be- 
ing convicted  ;  and  that  the  publication  had  been  brought 
fci  .-ard  under  a  real  necessity  of  preventing  the  ruin  of 
the  people  of  Bridghampton." 

i  replied  to  Mr.  Lawrence  in  the  following  manner.  "  I 
feel,  sir,  piyself  injured  in  a  very  peculiar  manner,  by  the 
statement  made  by  Judge  Hurlbut,  and.tbc  resolution  you 
have  taken  on  the  subject.  I  have  been  oppressed  by  cer- 
tain characters  in  Bridghampton,  among  whom  Judge 
Hurlbut  iis  one,  in  a  very  barbarous  and  cruel  manner  ;  no 
means,  however  wicked  and  cruel,  have  been  neglected  to 
enectthicir  purpose  ;  this  series  of  difficulties  is  too  tedi- 
ous to  relate  ;  I  have  been  much  reduced  m  my  circum- 
stances bv  tliem.     I  had  but  a  competency  before,  but  now 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  8^ 

am  reduced  to  a  situation  in  v»'hich  I  have  nothiii£^to  spa^^c 
from  the  necessities  of  my  family.  Had  not  this  been  the 
case,  I  would  not  have  ])rought  this  matter  forward  in  be- 
half of  the  state,  but  would  have  commenced  a  suit  in -my 
own  behalf  ;  notwithstanding,  I  really  flattered  myself  that 
the  laws  of  my  country  would  have  protected  me  from  in- 
jury, even  in  my  state  of  penury.  I  am  willing  to  risk  the 
action  on  the  falsehood  of  facts  stated  in  the  pul^licaiion  ; 
and  moreover  upon  the  falsehood  of  the  facts  stated  by 
Judge  Hurlbut  respecting  my  being  proTed  guHty  of  those 
enormous  crimes  which  he  has  related."  Mr.  Lawrence 
waved  any  further  conversation  upon  the  subject,  and  the 
next  day  I  went,  as  my  only  remaining  resource,  before  the 
grand  jury.  After  considerable  conversation  on  the  sub- 
ject, 1  was  dismissed.  The  Attorney-General  being  sent 
for  soon  after,  i  had  leftve  to  withdraw  my  papers.  It  will 
be  well  to  note,  that  one  of  the  Bridghampton  committee 
was  on  this  jury  ;  whether  by  accident  or  design,  I  leave 
you  to  judge. 

The  Solicitor  for  the  county  being  present  at  this  court, 
I  inquired  of  him  whether  other  bonds  would  be  necessary, 
provided  a  continuance  of  my  cause  should  be  granted  at 
the  time  of  my  being  called  upon  by  the  court  of  Quarter 
Sessions ;  or  whether  the  old  bonds  were  sufficient,  until 
the  cause  came  to  trial.  I  was  informed  that  the  old  bond 
was  sufficient  under  such  a  circumstance,  without  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  renewal.  The  reason  of  making  the  inquiry 
was  produced  by  a  witness  then  being  sick  whom  I  de- 
pended on,  and  danger  remained  of  her  continuing  unable 
to  attend  at  the  time  of  trial. 

The  Court  of  Quarter  Sessions  was  attended  but  by  one 
attorney  as  a  general  thing,  the  Solicitor  for  the  county 
excepted,  who  was  likewise  clerk  of  the  court.  This  at- 
torney, whose  name  was  Skinner,  I  applied  to,  in  order 
to  pre-engage  his  assistance  at  the  time  of  trial.  He 
promised  to  assist  me,  but  I  yet  gave  him  no  retaining  fee. 

As  the  time  of  the  sitting  of  the  Court  drew  nigh,  much 
noise  was  made  about  my  absconding,  and  many  frightful 
reports  were  made  to  Mr.  Kalsey  that  I  should  break  my 
bonds  and  leave  the  country;,    however,  these  machina- 


8i  MEMOIRS  OF 

tions  proved  inefTectua! ;  Mr.  Halsey  p?ad  no  attention  to 
the  reports ;  nay,  he  carried  his  confidence  so  far,  as  to 
-furnish  me  with  horse,  saddle  and  bridle,  in  order  to  ride 
to  the  place  where  the  Court  was  held,  bcin.^  30  miles 
distant  from  my  al3ode  ;  alledgin^..  "that  if  I  was  deter- 
mined to  abscond,  he  y/ould  place  me  in  a  situation  of  do- 
ing it  with  facility." 

As  I  feared,  the  witness  upon  whom  I  chiefly  depend- 
ed, was  unable  to  attend,  and  consequently,  I  had  drawn 
up  the  resolution  of  moving  for  a  continuance  of  the  cause 
until  the  next  term  ;  but  judge,  sir,  my  surprise,  when  I 
arrived  at  court,  at  finding  the  attorney,  Mr.  Skinner,  to 
whom  I  had  spoken  for  assistance,  engaged  on  the  o:her 
side,  to  assist  "vTr.  L'Homedieu  the  Solicitor;  therefore 
I  was  left  alone,  and  unsupported  by  any.  The  Judges 
presiding,  were  J.  N.  Havens  and  John  Hurlbut. 

I  was  called  to  the  bar  and  answered  to  my  indictment. 
I  then  plead  for  a  continuance.  The  attornies  on  the 
other  side  made  answer  that  they  should  bring  no  objec- 
tions ;  and  demanded  further  security  by  new  bonds,  or 
that  I  should  be  committed  close  prisoner  until  next  term. 
In  m.y  answer  I  observed,  that  I  had  endeavored  to  gain 
intelligence  upon  this  subject  from  Mr.  L'Homedieu  pre- 
vious to  the  sitting  of  court,  owing  to  an  apprehension  of 
my  being  likely  to  want  a  coritinuance,  on  account  of  my 
principal  witness  at  that  time  being  in  a  state  of  lingering 
illness,  and  received  information  from  him  that  I  should 
have  no  need  to  renew  the  bonds,  in  case  of  a  continuance. 
Depending  on  this  information  I  came  on,  unprepared 
with  any  security,  expecting  that  I  had  done  every  thing 
which  could  be  required ;  tlierefore,  the  matter  rested 
thus  with  me,  viz.  that  I  must  either  go  to  trial  without 
the  assistance  of  witnesses,  which  I  could  not  do  with 
safety,  or  else  be  committed  close  prisoner  to  jail  until  1 
could  send  to  Bridghampton  for  bondsmen,  which  would 
be  attended  with  diiTicuities  I  did  not  know  how  to  en- 
counter, not  only  on  account  of  the  confinement,  but  like- 
wise on  account  of  the  expense  attending  the  business  un- 
der such  circumstances  ;  under  this  view  of  the  matter,  I 
prayed  the  indulgence  of  the  court  to  let  the  business  rest 
as  it  was  until  next  term. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  85 

My  prayer  was  not  granted,  yet  I  was  indulged  with  a 
continuance  until  the  next  morning  to  make  the  best  ar- 
langements  for  my  defence.  One  of  Bridghampton  com- 
mittee was  present  at  this  court,  who  came  to  my  lodg- 
ings in  the  evening,  and  desired  a  private  conference  with 
me.  He  endeavored  to  state  to  my  view  the  dangerous 
situation  1  now  stood  in,  observing  from  what  I  had  seen  I 
might  clearly  discern  that  the  whole  court  was  against 
me,  and  that  I  should  hare  no  chance  for  an  acquittal. 
"  You  know,  Mr.  Burroughs,  that  the  whole  of  this  diffi- 
culty has  arisen  in  consequence  of  your  obstinately  per- 
sisting in  continuing  in  Bridghampton,  when  the  com- 
mittee had  requested  you  to  move  away.  It  has  ever  been 
the  determination  of  the  committee  to  remove  you  by 
some  means,  and  you  see  to  what  the  difficulty  has  already 
arisen.  We  do  not  wish  to  have  you  confined  in  jail,  if 
you  will  only  be  wise  for  yourself.  If  you  stay  and  stand 
trial  you  can't  entertain  a  hope  to  the  contrary,  but  what  a 
jail  will  be  your  portion.  You  see  the  leading  characters 
in  the  court  against  you.  You  see  that  Mr.  L'Homedieu 
hns  already  treated  you  with  open  insult,  which  the  court 
allowed,  and  has  your  attorney  on  his  side.  You  have  no 
T\itner.s  in  your  cause,  and  no  chance  to  get  any.  You 
have  no  person  to  assist  you  in  managing  your  trial,  and 
two  powerful  lawyers  against  you  ;  besides  all  this,  the 
court  is  against  you.  You  have  put  your  great  dependence 
on  the  integrity  of  Judge  Havens,  but  you  may  depend 
that  he  is  determined  not  to  befriend  you,  since  he  sees  so 
many  against  you.  Mr.  L'Homedicu  has  great  influence 
upon  his  mind,  and  he  will  not  go  contrary  to  his  opinion. 
If  you  should  leave  the  country,  the  business  v.-ould  come 
to  an  end  without  any  fvirther  difficulty.  Your  bondsman 
vrould  never  be  prosecuted,  aiid  the  whole  business  would 
die  away  of  its  own  accord.  I  heard  Judge  Hurlbut  say 
myself  that  Mr.  Kaisey  should  never  be  hurt  if  you  left 
the  country.  If  you  should  live  to  get  through  this  diffii- 
culty,  we  shall  never  leave  you  until  you  quit  the  town  of 
Bridghampton  ;  therefore  my  advice  to  you,  as  a  friend,  is 
to  leave  the  country  this  night,  and  never  more  return  ;  if 
you  do  not  accept  this  advice,  you  may  depend  you  are  uu. 
fi  '•^Q  forever." 


86  MEMOIRS  OF 

After  Mf.  Hains,  the  name  of  this  person,  had  clone 
speakmg,  I  answered  him  in  the  follorting  manner  :  "  You 
have  observed,  Mr.  Hains,  that  frienclshiji  has  influenced 
you  to  give  me  the  advice  which  you  have  just  now  utter- 
ed. Well  <iid  the  wise  man  observe,  that  the  "  tender 
mercies  of  the  wicked  are  cruel."  Influenced  by  your 
friendship,  inhat  a  horrid  picture  has  it  produced  1  !  \  You 
advise  me  to  abscond  and  leave  the  country,  under  the  pe- 
culiar circumstances  to  which  your  wickedness  has  redu-* 
ced  me  ;  loaded  with  the  infamy  of  a  crime,,  of  which  you 
know  me  to  be  innocent,  and  to  leave  my  laaiily  with  those 
who  have  not  shewn  the  common  sympathy,  which  vre 
fmd  among  savages  ;  moreover,  you  advise  me  to  forfeit 
all  claims  to  coniidence,  by  betraying  my  friend,  wh©  has 
been  my  security,  into  your  power.  You  promise  me, 
that  no  harm  shall  befal  him,  in  consequence  of  my  elope- 
ment. Can  I  place  confidence  in  the  promises  of  such 
characters,  who  have  violated  all  the  laws  of  propriety,  in- 
tegrity, humanity  or  decency  !  !  1  When  1  take  into  con- 
sideration, Mr.  Hc;ins,  the  character  which  Mr.  Wool- 
"worth  professes,  viz.  a  minister  of  that  gospel,  which 
teaches  meekness,  mildness,  benevolence  and  charily ; 
when  I  view  you.  Judge  Kurlbat,  and  the  rest  of  the  com- 
mittee as  members  of  the  church  over  which  he  presides, 
under  the  most  soltmn  covenant  to  govern  yourselves  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  benevolence  and  equity,  which  arc 
taught  by  your  professed  Master  ;  and  contrast  your  con- 
duct with  your  solemn  profession  and  covenant,  il  fills  my 
soul  with  a  species  of  horror  loo  great  for  utterance  !  !  I 
Did  you  believe  a  Power  existed  who  would  eventually 
punish  the  wick€.d,  fear  would  keep  you  within  the  bounds 
of  moderation.  Either  madness  and  inf:^tu:.tion  have  tak- 
en hold  of  your  heart,  or  else  ycu  disbelieve  every  article 
of  your  mock  profession. 

*'  I  firstly  and  formally  pursu«d  what  appeared  to  me  to 
be  my  duty,  in  relation  to  the  causes  of  our  diilicul*^ies  in 
Bridghampton.  I  have  never  intentjonaily  swtrved  from 
that  line  of  conduct  since,  neither  do  I  ever  intend  it.  I 
am  sensible  that  every  measure  has  bctn  taken  whicii  ' 
roalice  (;culd  dictate,  in  order  to  inrolve   me  in  difficulty 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  B7 

by  this  prosecution.  Mr.  Woolworth  in  the  first  instance 
1ms  circulated  through  the  country  a  libellous  publication, 
calculated  to  raise  an  invincible  prejudice  among  the  peo- 
ple, ^vho  must  compose  the  jury,  by  whom  I  shall  he  tri- 
ed. You  have  exerted  yourselves  to  strengthen  this  by 
the  unceasing  tongue  of  slander  and  calumny,  in  hopes  of 
effecting  that  by  prejudice,  which  you  could  not  by  a  fair 
trial.  You  have  likewise  very  ingeniously  manoeuvered 
to  bring  me  to  trial  without  the  assistance  of  evidence  or 
counsel.  As  for  Judge  Havens'  being  influenced  by  par- 
ty cabal  in  this  matter,  I  do  not  yet  fear  it.  Be  the  con- 
sequences what  they  may,  i  shall  risk  the  trial,  and  abide 
the  consequences." 

After  Mr.  Hains  had  retired,  and  I  Avas  left  alone  to  a 
cool  reflection  upon  my  present  situation,  it  filled  my  mind 
with  the  keenest  anxiety.  I  saw  myself  brought  into  a 
most  disadvantageous  situation  by  the  unmanly  treatment 
of  the  Solicitor  against  me.  4  saw  myself  under  a  neces- 
sity of  going  into  jail,  or  else  going  to  trial  without  any 
v.'itness.  1  expected  that  the  next  day  the  probability  was 
strong  against  me  of  being  confined  in  close  jail.  Under 
this  view,  said  I,  "  what  must  become  of  my  family  ?  They 
are  already  reduced  to  indigent  circumstances  by  the  con- 
tinued interruption  and  extraordinary  expenses  which  the 
difficulties  have  created.  I  have  vainly  flattered  myself 
with  considerable  help  from  my  friends,  in  whose  cause  I 
embarked  in  this  difficulty.  VViien  my  business  shall 
cease,  the  support  of  my  family  is  cut  off,  and  they  are  left 
without  resource;  left  ini a  barbarous  land,  the  hearts  of 
whose  inhabitants  are  made  of  mere  than  savage  inhu- 
manity." 

A  view  of  this  business  kept  my  eyes  from  closing 
through  the  night.  I  tumbled  from  one  side  of  the  bed  to 
the  other,  in  hopes  of  finding  a  moment's  respite  from  my 
perplexity  in  some  easy  situation  ;  but  alas  1  T  tumbled  in 
vuin. 


«8  MEMOIRS  or 

CHAP.  VI. 

"  O !  days  of  pain  !  while  here. 

How  tasteless  !  and  how  terrible  when  gone  ! 

Gone  ?  they  never  g-o  ;  when  past  they  haunt  us  still ; 

The  spirit  walks,  of  every  day  deceas'd. 

And  smiles  an  angel ;  or  a  fury  frowns." 

Jji  ARLY  the  next  morning  I  again  appeared  at  the  bar, 
in  order  for  trial ;  the  court-house  was  very  crowded.  No 
■witness  was  examined,  whose  evidence  amounted  to  any 
thing,  on  either  side,  excepting  the  woman,  who  was  the 
chief  instrument  in  this  business.  After  she  had  gone 
through  with  her  testimony,  ajid  the  questions  had  been 
asked  on  the  other  side,  I  proceeded  to  cross  examine  her  ; 
but  she  would  not  answer  any  quesiion  I  put,  until  Judge 
Ilurlbut  had  given  her  a  lead  to  her  answers.  Upon  many 
questions  she  was  totally  silent  until  she  was  ordered  by 
Judge  Havens  to  give  an  answer.  After  the  examination 
was  through,  I  proceeded  to  make  some  observations  to 
the  juiy,  but  was  continually  interrupted  by  the  attornies 
on  the  other  side,  ordering  me  to  keep  to  the  point,  until 
Judge  Havens  commanded  them  to  desist  and  let  me  pro- 
ceed. After  I  had  ended,  the  attornies  on  the  other  side 
labored  the  business  with  great  earnestness  to  induce  the 
jury  to  find  me  guilty.  Tney  ended,  and  Judge  Havens 
commanded  the  jury  to  retire  and  make  up  their  verdict. 
After  an  hour's  absence,  the  jury  returned  their  verdict, 
Not  Guilty  of  the  charge,  but  guilty  of  an  assault  only. 
The  verdict,  returned  in  this  manner,  threw  the  cost  of 
prosecution  on  to  me,  which  amounted,  together  with  the 
tine  which  the  court  imposed,  to  twelve  dollars  and  one 
half.  Not  being  prepared  with  the  money  to  pay  this  sum, 
Mr.  Geiston,  the  sherifl^",  advanced  the  money  for  me,  and 
I  was  dismissed. 

I  left  this  place  about  sunsetting,  and  rode  hard  until  I 
arrived  at  my  own  abode.  I  found  my  wife  up,  and  a  num- 
ber of  the  neighbors  at  my  house,  though  it  was  now  the 
latter  part  of  the  night,  waiting  with  impatience  and  solici- 
tude, listening  to  the  sound  of  every  step,  to  hear  if  possi- 
ble how  the  matter  had  terminated  in  relation  to  my  trial. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  89 

the  news  which  had  already  arrired  being  of  the  most  dis- 
agreeable nature.  As  my  horse  approached  the  house, 
they  came  out  at  the  soimd  of  his  steps  to  learn  who  it  was, 
and  if  it  was  any  one  by  whom  they  could  gain  further  in- 
telligence from  the  River-head,  (the  place  where  the  court 
was  held)  finding  the  horse  was  approaching  the  house, 
they  concluded  some  messenger  v/as  coming  with  news; 
th€y  therefore  drew  back  into  the  house,  waiting  in  fearful 
suspence,  till  the  event  should  be  announced  ! !  1 

Whilst  they  were  in  this  situation,  conceive,  sir,  if  pc!^.- 
sible,  their  surprise,  when  I  appeared  among  them.  They 
started,  as  though  doubtful  of  the  evidence  of  their  own 
ryes.  When  they  heard  my  voice,  they  crowded  around, 
to  learn  the  final  catastrophe.  1  had  maintcined  my  forti- 
tude unsh-iken  until  this  moment.  All  danger  being  now 
over,  and  I  returned  once  more  into  the  bosofn  of  my  fami- 
ly, and  to  the  society  of  my  friends  and  neighbors,  brought 
on  those  sensations  which  I  cannot  describe,  but  which 
overpowered  my  resolution,  and  became  too  heavy  to  sup- 
port ;  tears  flowed  from  my  eyes  in  abundance,  when  I 
could  scarce  tell  the  reason  why. 

Hast  thou  ever  weigh'd  a  sigh  ? 


Or  studied  the  p'lilosopliy  of  tears  ! 
(A  science  yet  uiilectur'd  in  our  s^'iools  !) 
Hast  thou  descended  deep  into  the  breast. 
And  s'?en  their  source  :  If  rot,  descend  with  me. 
And  trace  taeiv  briny  r'iv'lets  to  their  springs." 

My  enemies  were  greatly  mortified  at  the  unfortunate 
termination  of  all  their  labors  for  my  ruin.  I  had  strug- 
^^led  with  the  diHicuities  until  I  hai  overcome  them  ; 
though  Rt  the  cxi^nse  of  ray  domestic  provisions.  It  wa» 
now  thoug^it  that  Mr.  Wcohvorth  and  his  party,  being  io 
thoroughly  baiHed  in  all  their  endeavors,  would  yield  to 
necessity,  and  give  over  their  machinations.  Howercr,  I 
scon  found  him,  together  with  Judge  Hurlbut,  again  in- 
triguing among  the  parents  of  my  scholars,  and  endeavor- 
iiig  to  detach  them  irom  the  school.  They  were  success- 
ful in  some  instancesy  but  not  in  a  sufficient  degree  to  an- 
swer their  purpose.  Therefore  Judge  Hurlbut  and  Henry 
Pierson,  Justices  of  the  Pcace^  granted  a  wariioit  fai  the 

VOL.   II.  I 


•.  MEMOIRS  OF 

removal  of  me,  iny  wife  and  children,  as  likely  to  become 
poor.  My  wife  and  two  children  were  taken  and  carried 
from  the  island  to  New-London,  in  the  state  of  Connecti- 
cut, and  there  left.  Gelston,  the  officer  who  executed  the 
warrant,  manifested  the  most  brutish  and  indelicate  con- 
duct towards  my  wife,  duiinc^  this  scene.  He  came  after 
9.nd  transported  her  in  a  horse  cart  to  the  vessel  m  hich  was 
employed  to  carry  her  to  Connecticut,  being  a  distance  of 
-iive  miles,  and  insulted  her  during  the  passage  with  tl>€ 
most  obscene  and  abusive  raillery.  However,  when  he  ar- 
rived at  New-London,  he  found^he  corporation  so  far  from 
receiving  my  wife  and  children,  and  sending  them  on  from 
town  to  town,  according  to  the  directions  in  the  warrant, 
that  they  informed  Gelston  that  he  must  find  security  for 
all  costs  the  city  of  New-London  might  be  put  to  on  their 
account.  This  at  once  disappointed  the  prospects  of  the 
party,  and  my  wife  and  children  returned  the  next  day  to 
Bridghampton. 

You  may  possibly  wish  to  know  how  it  happened  that, 
as  the  warrant  commanded  Gelston  to  remove  me  as  well 
as  my  family,  I  was  not  carried  away  with  them.  The  rea- 
son was  this.  I  found  it  extremely  difficult  to  support  my 
family,  under  the  embarrassment  which  I,  by  this  time, 
found  myself;  therefore  had  resolved,  if  they  were  deter- 
mined to  carry  my  family  away,  that  they  would  soon  ar- 
rive among  their  friends,  where  they  would  tarry  until  I 
should  get  my  affairs  somewhat  settled,  and  my  business 
so  arranged,  as  to  afford  them  a  comfortable  support.  That 
disencumbered  from  the  necessity  of  their  immediate  sup- 
port, I  could  make  myself  easy  under  almost  any  situation, 
and  accordingly  could  practice  a  system  of  much  closer 
economy,  in  order  to  bring  my  affairs  into  a  better  state. 
Under  this  view,  I  had  determined  to  keep  out  of  the  way 
myself,  when  my  family  were  taken  from  the  island.  How- 
ever, I  have  since  suffered  the  keenest  remorse  on  the  ac- 
count of  letting  my  family  be  taken  away,  by  such  barba- 
rians, without  risking  the  conse^jucnces  of  being  with  them. 
As  the  winter  was  now  approaching,  I  found  myself 
straitened  in  my  necessary  stock  of  provisions,  fuel,  8cc.  for 
the  winter  consumption.     There  were  some  debts  I  had 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  9; 

;ue,  but  particularly  one  of  Dr.  Havens,  to  a  considerable 
.■amount,  on  which  I  depended  for  the  support  of  my  fami- 
ly. I  accordingly  made  application  to  the  Doctor  for  a  set- 
tlement, but  to  no  purpose.  I  endeavored  to  bring  him  to 
r.  reckoning,  that  our  accounts  might  be  adjusted,  being 
lovr  almost  of  three  ye?.rs  standing  ;  yet  my  efforts  were 
ineffectual.  I  stated  at  large  the  disagreeable  situation  of 
my  ufFuirs,  and  the  necessity  of  the  debt  for  the  support  of 
my  family.  However,  I  yet  obtained  nothing  more  than 
empty  promises. 

During  the  winter  I  continued  my  scliool,  which  was  not 
large,  and  by  the  closest  economy,  made  shift  to  get  thro' 
with  tolerable  comfort ;  but  distress  now  began  to  stare  me 
in  the  face.  ^ly  wife  was  in  hourly  expectation  of  bring- 
i'ng  another  wretched  infant  into  existence.  The  provi- 
sions which  I  had  laid  by  in  the  fall  v/ere  all  consumed. 
My  wages  during  the  winter  were  all  taken  up  in  disciuirg- 
ing  the  debts  which  my  law-suits  and  other  diificuldes  had 
brought  upon  me  ;  nothing  now  remained  excepting  the 
debt  of  Dr.  Havens,  which  am^ounted,  if  I  mistake  not,  to 
about  eight  pounds.  This  debt  I  had  tried  to  collect,  v.iib- 
out  eject,  for  six  months.  I  for  the  bst  time  wrote  him 
word,  that  I  should  leave  the  account  in  the  hands  of  Esq. 
Rogers  to  coiiect,  if  he  did  not  forth vvith  settle  the  mr.tter. 
The  Doctor  had  the  effrontery  to  come  to  my  house  and 
tell  me,  "  that  I  wivs  hated  so  much  in  that  country,  that  I 
could  not  collect  a  debt."  He  offered  me  five  dollars  if  I 
would  pass  receipts.  I  rejected  this  offer  with  that  dis- 
dain which  such  an  unv.'orthy  action  merits.  Upon  this, 
Dr.  Havens  left  my  house,  and  repaired  immediately  to 
Mr.  L'Homedieu,  for  a  special  warrant  for  me  to  be 
brought  before  him,  for  an  action  of  debt ;  testifying,  un- 
der oath,  that  I  owed  him,  and  that  he  was  in  fear  of  my 
absconding,  and  that  thereby  he  should  lose  bis  debt.  This 
oath  being  necessary  to  entilie  the  pkintiff  to  a  special 
warrant. 

I  was  taken  with  this  warrant,  and  brought  before  Esq. 
L'Homedieu  immediately.     I  plead  for  an  adjournmen:, 
alledging  that  I  had  material  witnesses  to  cite,  and';"'  - 
security  for  my  appearance  ;  for  I  could  have  prov 


92  MEMOIRS  OF 

OiTer  of  five  dollars  the  day  before  for  a  settlement.  This 
request  was  denied ;  I  had  the  disagreeable  necessity  of 
going  to  trial  immediately. 

Doctor  Havens  here  exhibited  an  account  against  me 
for  attendance,  nursing,  boarding,  washing,  lodging,  Sec. 
during  the  term  of  twenty-one  dEiys.  His  charge  for 
board  was  three  shillings  per  day,  for  nursing  six,  for  wash- 
ing and  lodging  one  and  six  pence,  and  f:5r  attendance  and 
medicine,  ten  shillings.  You  will  please  to  recollect  that 
this  account  was  for  sei'vices  during  my  sickness  of  the 
fever  and  ague,  and  remitting  fever,  which  had  all  been 
settled  ;  first,  by  its  being  done  out  of  kindness,  and  sec- 
ondly, my  discharging  the  Doctor's  school  bill  during  my 
teaching  on  Shelter-Island. 

Bridghampton  committee  attended  this  court,  and  made 
themselves  very  busy  in  interfering  in  the  trial.  The 
cause  finally  went  to  the  jury,  who  abated  much  the  price 
which  Doctor  Havens  had  put  to  his  items,  and  yet  after 
all,  left  a  balance  against  me  of  23  shillings.  When  judg- 
ment was  given  against  me,  there  remained  no  more  fear 
of  the  loss  of  the  debt  by  my  absconding.  I  was  left  at 
liberty  and.retii'ed  to  my  own  home,  in  a  state  of  despera- 
tion. I  could  not  view  my  own  family  without  feeling  the 
fraptic  rage  of  grief,  more  ciuel  than  the  sting  of  death. 
My  all  was  gone.  My  only  remaining  hope  forsaken  me, 
and  my  family  in  such  a  situation  as  to  need  the  solace  of 
comfort.  I  was  in  a  state  of  horror  through  this  night, 
totiiily  indescribable.  To  add  to  this  scene  of  wo,  Gel- 
sion  came  the  next  morning  with  tiie  execution,  took  our 
bed  and  bedding,  and  sold  them  at  pub^c  vendue,  to  satis- 
fy the  execution,  which  amounted  to  four  pounds. 

This  was  the  winding  up  of  all  the  scenes  of  horror 
through  which  I  have  ever  passed.  I  now  saw  myself 
sunk  under  a  weight  too  heavy  to  endure,  without  any  pros- 
pect of  recovery.  To  behold  my  innocent  helpless  chil- 
dren hanging  about  my  knees,  with  fascinating  fondness 
and  affection,  endeavoring  to  cheer  and  dissipate  the  hor- 
rid gloom  that  overspread  our  brows,  ignorant  of  the  ruin 
which  was  hovering  around  ;  O,  God  of  mercy  !  this  was 
a  scene  too  great  for  mortal  strength  I  I  could  look  death 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  93 

in  the  face  with  composure,  but  tliis  scene  deprived  mc 
of  manhood.  I  lost  all  fortitude  under  it,  and  could  not 
Avithstand  the  rempest  of  passion,  which  entirely  over- 
threw every  remaining  spire  of  resolution.  I  now  saw 
my  wife  and  children  thrown  upon  the  charity  of  a  merci- 
less world  for  support.  I  was  unable  any  further  to  con- 
tribute to  their  maintenance.  IMy  business  was  interrup- 
ted, my  property  exhausted,  and  my  health  and  strength 
Mere  wasted.  A  state  of  universal  debility  had  attended 
me  for  more  than  two  years  ;  pulmonary  complaints,  to- 
gether with  symptoms  of  universal  decay,  had  increased 
upon  me  to  such  a  degree,  aa  to  render  mc  incapable  of 
business.  Gladly  would  I  have  resi.^ned  my  life,  but  re- 
Tolted  at  the  idea  of  leaving  my  family  without  the  con- 
solation of  one  solitary  friend  to  solace  them  in  their  dis- 
tress. O,  helpless  innocence,  said  I,  to  what  a  state  of 
wretchedness  have  I  reduced  you,  by  making  you  com- 
panions in  my  wnyward  fate.  Wctild  to  God  the  days  of 
my  joyful  union  with  you  had  been  barred  by  the  irrevers- 
ible laws  of  nature  I  Notwithstanding  no  joy  had  been  so 
great,  no  pleasure  so  exquisite  as  domestic  felicity,  yet 
the  pangs  of  their  disappointment,  the  horrors  of  their  sit- 
uation overpower  every  consideration  of  past  enjoyment, 
and  make  me  loathe  its  recollection  I  Which  wuy  to  turn, 
or  what  course  to  take  I  could  not  determine  I  All  was 
darkness,  gloom,  night,  wretchedness  and  despair. 

As  the  throw  of  a  desperate  gamester,  I  determined  to 
make  application  to  ?.Ir.  Woohvorth,  Judge  Hurlbut,  and 
the  committee.  '•  Possibly,"  said  I,  "  gratified  in  their 
desires,  their  breasts  may  at  last  be  touched  with  compas- 
sion, and  they  will  commiserate  the  victim  who  has  fallen 
a  sacrifice  at  the  shrine  of  their  ambition  ;'*  but,  alas  1  this 
application  was  productive  of  nothing  but  the  bitterest 
taunts,  irony,  and  repnouches ;  added  to  this,  I  received 
the  swaggering  declamation  of  Doctor  Havens,  trium- 
phantly exulting  under  the  idea  that  he  had  outwitted  me  ; 
and  effected  that,  at  a  single  stroke,  which  all  Bridghamp- 
t®n  had  been  in  A'ain  pui-suing  for  more  than  two  years. 

This  had  the  effect  to  arouse  me  from  that  state  of  stu- 
pid languor  and  insensibilitv,  under  wh;ch  I  had  servilely 
i3 


I'l  MEMOIRS  OF 

crouched  for  somclime.  I  erected  ray  head,  asd  re- 
proached myself  for  fulling  under  the  burdens  of  misfor- 
tunes, which  were  produced  by  pursuing  the  course  of 
rectitude.  What,  sdd  I,  shall  honesty  and  integrity  flee 
ashamed  from  the  face  of  vice  and  wickedness?  sbrbid  it 
justice  ;  forbid  it  fortitude.  Shall  we  only  pursue  vir- 
tue when  her  paths  are  strewed  with  flowers;  and  the 
cries  of  the  multitude  are  in  our  favor  ?  "  Rather,'*  said  I, 
possess  that  virtue,  under  the  exercise  of  which  we 
land  against  and  overcome  whatever  difficulties  may  be 
thrown  in  our  vvay." 

I  now  began  to  arm  with  resolution,  to  look  about  and 
see  what  means,  could  yet  be  used,  and  determined  to  de- 
vote ^\  hat  little  remaining  ability,  I  yet  possessed,  to  the 
advantage  of  my  family.  I  had  often  received  invitations 
from  my  quondam  friend,  Joseph  Huniington,  Esq.  to 
come  to  Georgia,  and  commence  business  in  that  countiy, 
as  affording  a  much  fairer  opportunity  of  making  an  es- 
tablishment for  my  family.  My  friend  Huntington  being 
in  the  practice  of  the  law  with  a  large  run  of  business  on 
hand,  w*s  under  peculiar  advantages  to  afford  me  essen- 
tial assistance  to  such  an  object. 

Under  all  circumstances,  I  concluded  that  the  or\\f 
measure  I  could  adopt,  would  be  to  accept  of  this  oifer, 
fcud  travel  southward  as  soon  as  the  trying  hour  of  my 
v»ifc's  sickness  in  childbed  was  over.  Possibly,  suid  I,  a 
change  of  climate  may  alleviate  my  diiiiculty,  or  hasten 
riiy  end.  In  either  case  it  will  bring  doubtful  circum- 
stances to  a  certainty,  and  should  I  evenumlly  l>e  taken 
away,  the  probability  will  be,  that  my  wifc*s  father  will 
then  make  provision  for  his  daughter,  when  no  one  is  left 
to  do  it.  Should  I  happily  succeed  in  recovering  my 
-  heidth  and"  gaining  an  iaiterest  for  the  support  of  my  farai- 
Iv,  it  would  be  infinitely  preferable  to  tarrying  in  Bridg- 
hamptcn,  and  suffering  a  thousand  deaths  in  preventing 
one.  Moreover,  by  going  such  a  distance,  I  might  iliude 
t]i«  disadvantages  of  a  thousand  reports,  floating  upon  a 
thousand  kabbling  tongues,  loaded  with  gall  and  bitter- 
ness. Already  has  the  propensity  among  mankind  to  de- 
prcclutc  the  merit  of  others,  bstii  carried  to  silch  an  a- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  95 

larming  height  to^Ta^cl5  me,   that  whoever  performs  an 
evil  deed  to  me,  thinks  he  is  doing  "  God  service." 

I  made  a  statement  of  these  views  to  my  wife.     Many- 
objections  occurred,  hut  after  maturely   considering  the 
subject,  her  reason  triumphed  over  her  feelings,  and  she 
aided  me  with   counsel   to  strengthen  my  yet  irresolute 
mind.     One  great  difficulty    yet   remained,   whicli  was 
hard  to  remove,  viz.  how  to  provide  against  the  expenses 
of  sickness,  as  we  were  now   in  a  state  wholly  destitute. 
After  ruminating  some  time  on  this  subject,  with  no  small 
degree  of  trouble  of  mind,  I  at  length  determined  to  make 
a  visit  to  William  Hart,  Esq.  of  Norwich-Landing,  lay  my 
situation  open  to   his  view,  and  peradventure   his   heart 
would  be  inclined  to  compassionate  my  situation  ;  he  had 
ever  appeared  as  a  person  possessing  the  milk   of  human 
kindness.     I  was  not  deceived  in  my  estimate  of  his  feel- 
ings.    He  compassionated  my  distress  ;    he    gave  me  ten 
,  dcllars  :  he  moreover  wrote   to  an  acquaintance  of  his  in 
New-York, recommending  me   to  his   attention..     ^Yith 
this  small  sum  I  hastened  back  to  my  family,  with   feel- 
ings triumphantly    delightful.       I   found   my  exertions 
crowned  with  success  so  far  as  to  produce  a  remedy  from 
the  impending  evil  of  being  destitute  of  help  in  time  of 
sickness      I  waited  the  usual  time   of  expectation,  nay,  I 
\vaited  three  weeks  longer  than  the  natural   period  in  ro- 
tation ;  but  the  hour  of  sickness  and  delivery  did  not  yet 
arrive.     The  stock  of  money  which  I  had  laid  by  for  this 
purpose,  was  now  expended,  and  no  prospect  of  gaining 
another  supply.     To  stay  longer  and  starve  with  my  fami- 
ly, I  knew  was  iruiiless  and  in  vain.     I  determined  there- 
fore immediately  to  hasten  my  departure  from  this  inhos- 
pitable clime,  and  seek  support  in  a  distant  country.     Tho 
time  I  fixed  for  my  leaving  this  place  being  now  estab- 
lished, the  fortitude  of  my  wife  began  to  fail.     The  pros- 
pect w^s  so  dreadful  before  her,  and  the  time  uncertain 
when  we  should  again  meet,  or  whether  we   should  ever 
again  see  each  other,  that  she  sunk  under  it.     She  roared 
Avith  anguish  through  the  night.     The  children  were  ter- 
rified at  seeing  their  mamma  in  such   distress.      They 
wept  to  keep  her  company,  yet  little  thQ\ight  of  the  harm 


96  MEMOIRS  OF 

that  was  around  them.  You,  sir,  arc  a  father  !  yet  you 
know  nothing  of  these  feelings.  Distress  such  as  that  can 
only  give  you  a  sense  of  them. 

I  used  my  endeavors  to  administer  comfort  in  this 
dreadful  situation.  I  called  the  attention  of  my  wife  to  the 
fluctuating  scenes  ot  time,  that  such  prospects  could  not 
always  last ;  that  the  darkest  times  are  soon  followed  by 
the  rising  sun  ;  that  she  lived  in  a  country  where  they 
dare  not  let  her  starve.  Miserable  objects  of  comfort  1 ! 
While  I  was  endeavoring  to  administer  this  consolation 
(cold  consolation^  I  felt  the  want  of  assistance  myself  I 
proceeded  till  my  faculties  of  sensation  were  stagnated  by 
the  dint  of  grief  My  eyes  were  set  with  horror  ;  my 
teeth  gnashed  with  anguish  ;  my  tongue  clave  to  the  roof 
of  my  mouth,  and  I  could  not  pronounce  a  syllable.  O  I 
God  of  mercy !  on  me  alone  pour  out  the  full  vials  of  thy 
wrath.  Let  me  alone  sustain  the  fury  of  thy  decrees,  and 
avert  thy  vengeance  from  these  who  prattle  innocence  in 
every  lisp  of  the  tongue  .*  At  earliest  dawn  I  tore  my- 
self from  my  family,  I  hasted  on  board  a  vessel,  and  sailed 
for  New-York. 

These  are  scenes  at  which  nature  sickens ;  yet  they 
are  scenes  of  nature.  For  the  mind,  in  the  cooler  mo- 
ments of  reflection,  to  investigate  the  secret  source 
from  whence  originated  such  cruel  sufferings,  and  apply  a 
remedy  to  this  disorder,  is  performing  a  part  truly  hu- 
mane. The  first  emotion,  we  are  apt  to  feel,  under  the 
impulses  of  misguided  passion,  towards  the  author  of 
such  calamity,  is  vengeance  ;  but,  alas !  vengeance  may 
gratify  the  impulses  of  passsion,  but  cannot  correct  the 
evil.  Had  not  the  most  besotted  ignorance  bewildered 
their  minds,  they  could  not  have  conducted  as  they  did. 
Although  some  were  reputed  men  of  information,  yet  by 
making  advances  in  error  and  cultivating  wrong  pursuits,  ■ 
they  made  themselves  moi'e  the  children  of  darkness,  than 
nature's  simple  sons.     They  had  become  more  estranged 

*  This  violent  sensation  of  grief  w.ts  caused  by  the  exclamation 
of  my  little  child,  who,  seeing  tlie  distress  of  his  mother,  and  learn- 
ing that  I  vv-as  goin^  to  leave  hQF,  ctied,  "  don't  go  away  d^dda,  fot 
if  you  do  manima  will  die/' 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  97 

to  the  Yoice  of  reason,  and  shut  out  from  light,  by  stronger 
bars  of  darkness.  Wisdom  teaches  us  all  to  consider  each 
other  as  children  of  the  same  common  family,  and  that 
our  true  happiness  is  promoted  only  by  the  welfare  of  all  ; 
that  there  is  that  connexion  between,  the  various  members 
of  this  family,  that  no  one  can  suffer  without  iiiTolving,  in 
some  measure,  the  family  in  the  difficulty. 

Mr.  Woolworth  had  been  educated  and  habituated  ia 
the  opinion,  that  the  character  and  station  of  a  clergyman 
was  great  and  sacred  ;  as  he  observed,to  me  on  a  certain 
occasion :  "  A  clergyman,"  said  he,  "  is  the  ambassador 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  ;  he  is  clothed  with  his  authority  in  that 
character,  and  therefore  ought  to  be  treated  with  that  re- 
spect which  such  a  character  claims;  therefore  any  at^ 
tempt  to  oppose,  or  bring  a  minister  into  contempt,  is  com- 
Hiitting  a  crime  immediately  against  God,  and  ought  to 
be  punished  as  the  most  destructive  of  any  which  could 
be  committed.'* 

These  sentiments  were  disseminated  among  the  people 
who  v/ere  leagued  against  me  ;  ^d  I  believe  they  consci- 
entiously thought  it  their  duty  to  destroy  me  by  any 
means,  be  they  what  they  might.  Under  this  view,  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  that  extrdordin.iry  and  violent  meas- 
ures should  be  adopted.  The  consequence  of  such  treat- 
ment towards  me  awakened  the  feelings  of  passion,  and 
wiien  passion  was  the  leading  feature  on  both  sides  of  the 
contest,  but  little  reason  will  be  called  into  exercise.  Cool 
deliberation  will  give  place.to  the  wiles  ot  subtilty,  and 
the  disorder  will  increase  rather  than  abate. 

I  have  many  times  since  iaj^nented  my  vv^ant  of  piitient 
perseverance,  in  endeavoring  to  convince  m^  persecutors 
of  theifc'  wrong,  by  the  cool  dictates  of  reason,  and  in  pur- 
suing some  measures  with  too  much  warmth  against  them, 
v/here,  in  fact,  I  found  that  jealousy  had  miscolored  theii* 
transactions  to  my  mhjd.  Error  once  seen  ought  to  be 
corrected.  The  pruniug-hook  should  never  be  laid  aside, 
then  we  should  live  up  to  tho  condition  of  our  nature, 
which  requiics  a  state  of  improving  and  progressing  in 
knowledge  till  time  shall  cease.  Had  IVir.  Woolwortii 
laid  aside  the  idea  attached  to   his  preconceived  errors? 


58  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  given  the  subject  a  free  discussion  ;  looked  into  the 
nature  of  man,  his  feelings,  and  state  in  society  ;  and  con- 
sidered the  Mature  of  that  doctrine  which  he  undertook  to 
inculcate,  as  an  ambassador  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  1  know  his 
native  good  sense  would  have  flung  a  load  of  error  from 
his  mind,  "  whose  heft  would  sink  a  navy."  The  full  ev- 
idence of  truth  would  have  blazed  upon  his  understanding 
with  irresistible  force.  He  would  have  remembered  the 
command  of  his  J^ter,  "  Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself  ;" 
and  in  this  commaA^  he  would  hare  seen  that  wisdom 
and  propriety,  whfch  will  render  society  perfectly  hap- 
py, when  it  becomes  perfectly  obeyed.  But  on  the  con- 
contrary,  he  had  taken  his  position  in  error,  he  had  pursu- 
ed this  error  without  giving  himself  liberty  to  examine  its 
merits,  until  he  raised  a  fortification  of  darkness  around 
his  mind,  and  consequently  excluded  the  approach  of  truth. 
Under  circumst!inces  like  these,  the  energy  of  his  miad 
was  perverted  to  iiihuman  purposes.  He  spread  wretch- 
edness and  desolation  around  him,  and  became  a  partaker 
in  the  general  calamity. 

What  a  different  effect  would  a  contrary  line  of  conduct 
have  produced  I  By  nature  he  was  made  for  social  plea- 
sure 'and  enjoyment ;  to  receive  and  communicate  happi- 
ness in  the  mutual  display  of  a  benevolent  mind  :  had  he 
pursued  nature,  in  the  matters  relating  to  our  unhappy 
disputes,  in  the  room  of  producing  noxious  effects,  it  would 
have  been  attended  with  the  most  salutary  consequences. 
This  line  of  conduct  would  have  produced  the  most  feeling 
evidence  upon  the  minds  of  his  connexions,  of  the  real 
dictates  of  wisdom.  They  would  have  been  mutual  helps 
to  each  other  in  making  improvements,  in  this  progressive 
state,  upon  that  establishment.  They  would  individually 
have  contributed  their  share  to  have  kindled  the  flame  of 
pleasure,  social  enjoyment  and  benetDlent  satisfaction  ;  and 
so  fast  as  ignorance  vras  removed,  they  would  have  found 
themselves  in  a  situation  of  bestowing  and  recei/ing  the 
permanent  establishment  of  a  lasting  happiness. 

Ignorance  is  the  great  source  of  evil ;  i-nd  where  men 
pursue  a  course  founded  in  error,  ever  so  far,  in  the  room 
of  acquiring  wisdom,  they  make  further  removes  from  it» 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  99 

and  become  more  and  more  strangers  to  light  and  knowl- 
edge ;  more  and  more  stifle  tlie  voice  of  nature  mthin 
them,  by  shutting  the  avenues  of  information  ;  fixing  in 
their  vain  imaginations  their  own  opinions,  as  the  test  of 
information  ;  saying  to  investigation,  "  Hitherto  shalt  thou 
come  and  no  further,  and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be 
stayed." 

A  state  of  prosperity  is  much  more  fatal  to  the  growth 
of  wisdom  than  the  bitterest  adversity.  Under  misfor- 
tune the  mind  is  called  into  a  state  of  active  exercise. 
That  dependence  which  mutually  subsists  between  the 
members  of  society,  is  not  only  seen  but  felt ;  and  no 
truths  are  so  well  understood  as  those  we  feel ;  the  evils 
of  misfortune  are  known  ;  the  operations  of  the  heart  and 
the  exercises  of  the  soul  in  this  state  of  mutual  depend- 
ence can  there  be  traced.  Whereas  in  the  days  of  lazy 
prosperity,  the  objects  presenting  to  the  view,  are  person- 
al gratification,  and  a  listless  inattention  to  the  welfare  of 
mankind,  owing  to  the  want  of  a  stimulus  to  call  the  pow- 
ers of  the  mind  into  exeition  upon  such  subjects  as  they 
feelingly  find  is  productive  of  happiness. 

We  find  in  history  many  striking  examples  of  this  truth. 
At  the  time  of  Alexander's  mounting  the  stage  of  action, 
and  performing  his  part  in  the  busy  seenes  of  life,  he. was 
humane,  benevolent  and  kind,  to  an  extraordinary  degree. 
Prosperity  and  adulation  made  him  forget  that  he  was  a 
man.  His  conduct  would  make  the  feeling  heart  wish  that 
the  arrogant  assertion  of  not  being  a  mortal,  had  been  true ; 
in  order  that  the  character  of  human  nature  had  not  been 
stained  with  those  scenes  of  injustice  and  folly  which  must 
leave  an  indeiiable  blot  upon  our  escutcheon,  which  time 
can  never  purify.  The  yet  more  amazing  folly  of  mankind 
had  fixed  the  title  Great  u]ion  this  inhuman  wretch.  Had 
mankind  seen  with  the  wisdom  of  Agesilaus,  king  of  Spar- 
ta, they  would  have  blushed  at  giving  such  a  name  to  one 
of  the  most  improper  subjects  then  in  being.  When  the 
king  of  Persia  was  called  great  in  the  hearing  of  Agesi- 
laus, he  v.'ould  ask,  "  how  can  he  be  more  great  than 
others,  without  he  is  more  Just  P" 


100  MEMOIRS  OF 

.  Perhaps  nature  had  not  evfer  been  more  bountiful  in 
furnishing  any  characters  with  the  talents  requisite  for 
communicating  happiness  to  mankind,  than  appeared  in 
Pompey  and  Julius  Caesar ;  howerer,  an  uninterrupted 
course  of  success,  and  its  constant  attendant  adulation, 
called  their  attention  from  their  true  interest,  made  them 
ambitious  of  being  more  than  man,  and  in  the  pursuit  of 
the  object  of  this  ambition,  they  sunk  infinitely  beneath 
the  meanest  slave.  Even  the  bloody  Nero,  when  a  com- 
moner, was  so  strongly  affected  with  objects  of  human  ca- 
lamity, that  when  it  became  necessary  to  sign  a  death 
warrant,  he  lamented  his  ever  learning  to  m  rite,  because 
thereby  he  must  do  a  deed  so  repugnant  to  his  nature. 

Nothing  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things  has  so  direct  a 
tendency  to  pervert  the  bounties  of  nature  in  the  human 
mind  as  exkitution,  prosperity  and  adulation.  Nothing 
has  a  more  direct  effect  to  learn  man  wisdom,  than  often 
to  experience  those  events  which  teach  him  that  he  is  a 
77mn.  From  this  view  of  human  nature  we  see  the  wis- 
dom of  these  governments,  where  they  have  made  pio- 
vision  for  calling  men  frequently  from  office,  to  mingle 
again  in  common  society ;  to  feel  and  experience  the 
weaknesses,  dependencies  ai^id  connexion  which  exist 
among  each  other. 

I  found  the  most  dilBculty  in  reccnciiing  my  feelings 
towards  Doctor  Haven?,  even  upon  the  benevolent  sys- 
tem. With  him  and  his  family  I  had  maintained  one  un- 
interrupted course  of  friendly  offices  during  my  acquaint- 
ance with  him.  In  a  number  of  instacces.  wlien  his  mis- 
fortun&s  required  my  friendly  rad,  I  exerted  myself  with 
the  greatest  ardor  in  his  behalf.  One  circumstance  I  will 
rekte.  The  doctor  had  a  daughter,  who  being  unfortu- 
nately in  a  state  of  pregnancy,  by  a  young  man  who  utterly 
refused  to  marry  her,  a  universal  gloom  of  despondency 
hung  over  the  family  under  an  apprehension  that  the  mat- 
ter would  become  public,  and  leave  a  blotupon  the  family. 
Under  this  situation  the  Doctor  entreated  me  to  do  some- 
thing to  relieve  him  from  his  difficulty.  I  entered  warm- 
ly into  the  business,  I  visiled  the  young  man,  I  exerted 
my  eloquence  in  painting  the  situation  of  the  young  worn- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  lul 

aa,  together  with  that  of  the  family.  I  expostulated  with 
him  upon  the  injurious  nature  of  his  conduct,  in  betraying 
that  weakness  which  by  nature  he  was  created  to  protect. 
I  spent  day  after  day  in  this  pursuit.  After  he  had  utterly 
refused  lo  comply  with  any  other  terms,  than  to  make  pro- 
vision for  tKe  child,  I  still'would  not  give  up  the  point.  I 
saw  him  and  w  rote  to  him  with  all  the  powers  which  I 
could  call  into  exercise  by  my  tongue  and  pen.  ^My  exer- 
tions proving  fruitless,  the  Doctor  formed  a  very  extraor- 
dinaiy  rcscludon  to  obtain  revenge  upon  the  young  man. 
He  concerted,  in  company  with  his  daughter,  the  plan  for 
prosecuting  him  for  a  rape  ;  but  applying  to  Mr.  L'Home- 
dieu  on  the  business,  obtair.ed  information,  that  under  ■■iuch 
circumstances.^  such  a  prosecution  could  not  be  carried  into 
effect ;  therefore  the  Doctor  was  necessitated  to  sit  do\ra 
contented  under  his  disappointment. 

The  source  of  c.U  the  evils  arising  from  the  Doctor's 
conduct,  I  can  now  clearly  impute  to  ignorance,  both  nat- 
ural and  acquired.  He  was,  among  men,  the  most  stupid 
and  unfeeling.  His  capacity  admitted  the  least  improve- 
ment of  any  man  wit!i  whom  I  was  ever  acquainted;  his 
prejudices  the  most  rooted  and  stubborn  ;  and  his  sys.eni 
of  thinking  the  most  singular.'  He  ever  conbidercd  the 
perfection  of  the  human  character  consisted  in  an  ability 
to  subvert  an  adversary  ;  he  ever  appeared  to  thinkit  laud- 
able, and  a  striking  instcince  of  wisdom,  to  use  the  most 
nefarious  means  to  obtain  a  favorite,  if  the  means  and  end 
were  immediately  connected.  His  s^^nsorious  appetito 
upon  the  failings  of  others  had  no  bounds  ;  but  wlicu  the 
tables  were  turned  on^is  own  family,  the  least  obloquy 
was  the  greatest  crime.  The  sufferings  of  others  had  no 
place  in  his  mind,  but  his  own  trials  were  objects  which 
called  for  universrd  commiseration. 

I  believe  you  think  by  this  time,  I  am  drawing  the  pic- 
ture of  a  man  consummately  ignoran:  ;  and  that  a  con- 
.summate  d-^gree  of  foily  was  the  fruit  of  this  ignorance, 
♦and  that  an  equal  degree  of  stupidity  \wi\\  ever  keep  l.im 
consummately  ignorant.  The  picture  U  the  most  disa- 
greeable tnat  ever  I  have  met  with  m  humanuaturcjuadl 
jdo  not  believe  many  equals  are  to  be  found. 

VOL.  II.       "  K 


.MEMOIRS  OF 

CHAP.  VII. 

AjirillM^  1794. 

X  LEFT  Long-Island  with  these  heart-cutting  pangs  that 
a  person  of  ffeeling  must  experience  under  my  situation,  a 
family  behind  me,  consisting-  of  a  wife,  and  two  small  chil- 
dren, and  my  wife  in  hourly  expectation  of  being  put  to 
bed  of  another,  in  a  state  of  such  poverty  as  not  to  have 
the  value  of  one  dollar  of  provision  in  the  house,  and  no 
way  to  procure  any '  more  ;  and  myself  again  launching 
out  into  the  world  without  a  single  dollar  to  help  me  for- 
v.ard,  and  no  business  to  apply  myself  to  in  order  to  pro- 
cure me  sustenance  for  one  day.  1  took  a  passage  with  a 
man  by  the  name  of  Fordham,  for  New-York,  who  follow- 
ed the  business  of  carrying  passengers  from  the  east  €nd 
of  Long-Island  to  New- York.  His  price  for  the  passage 
"was  one  dollar,  and  each  passenger  to  find  his  own  sea 
stores.  I  took  on  board  willh  me  a  few  hard  biscuit,  hop- 
ing the  passage  would  be  short,  and  that.  I  should  stand  in 
need  of  but  little  provision  ;  but  in  the  room  of  its  being 
one  day,  it  was  lengthened  out  to  seven,  by  calms  and  con- 
trary winds,  so  that  by  the  closest  economy,  my  biscuit 
w  ere  eniirely  gone  by  the  fourth  day  ;  and  one  of  the  pas- 
sengers by  the  name  of  Du  Val,  perceiving  my  necessi- 
tous situation  and  anxiety  in  consequence,  made  me  the 
butt  for  his  ridicule  the  remainder  of  the  passage,  to  my 
no  small  mortification,  for  I  found  the  master  of  the  vessel 
took  part  in  and  fayored  the  sport,  under  an  apprehen- 
sion, as  I  suspected,  that  t^was  not  able  to  pay  him  for  the 
passage,  and  moreover  was  fearful  of  my  making  applica- 
tion to  him  for  more  provision,  since  my  own  was  all  ex- 
hausted. This  I  bore,  bec?.use  I  could  not  help  it,  for  I 
knew  his  suspicion  was  rightly  founded  about  my  own 
provision,  and  of  consequence  he  was  the  only  person  to 
whom  I  could  apply  for  relief,  and  apply  I  must,  or  starve. 
After  much  solicitation,  I  obtained  half  of  a  three  pound 
loaf,  with  which  I  made  out  until  I  arrived  at  New- York, 
where  I  put  up  at  a  public  house,  and  called  for  a  supper, 
having  left  my  trui^k  on  board  the  vessel  for  ^yant  of  a  iol- 


.  STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  103 

hv  to  pay  rny  passage.  After  I  had  supped  very  heartily, 
as  may  be  supposed,  I  reth'ed  to  rest,  or  rather  to  bed,  to 
have  the  nicije  leisure  opportunity  of  reflecting  upon  my 
desperate  situation,  and  to  fall  upon  some  plan  for  my  fu- 
ture conduct.  In  this  situation  I  had  a  chance  to  take  an 
uninterrupted  view  of  all  the  difficulties  that  attended  irie, 
and  the  miseries  to  which  I  was  reduced  ;  a  family  left 
amon,^  barbarians,  who,  under  the  sanciion  of  religion, 
v.'ould  willingly  cut  their  throats,  as  they  had  under  that 
sanction  already  reduced  me  from  easy  circumstances, 
and  from  a  situation  in  which  I  could  comfortably  support 
my  family,  to  my  present  condition  ;  my  name  scandalized 
in  the  most  infamous  manner,  by  those  hell-hounds  of  des- 
potism, among  those  who  were  no  way  acquainted  with 
me  but  by  those  reports  ;  destitute  of  money,  of  business 
and  of  friends  ;  and  all  my  dependence  upon  the  recom- 
mendation of  my  worthy  friend  Hr.rt,  to  a  gentleman  in 
Kew-York  by  tiie  name  of  Himtington,  as  an  object  (U- 
serving  charity. 

This  was  the  nnture  of  the  prospect  as  it  then  offered 
to  my  view.  Under  this  prospect  the  burdens  of  life  ap- 
peared too  great  for  mortal  strengtli,  and  gladly  would  [ 
exchange  this  life  Cipon  the  presumption  of  findiiig  astCvte 
of  rest  in  the  grave.  But  to  desert  a  f^miily  under  such  a 
situation  !  unprovided  with  the  bare  necessaries  of  life  I ' 
my  soul  started  back  with  horror  from  the  contemplation  of 
such  an  object.  After  nature  had  been  a  long-time  fatigued 
with  the  anguish  of  these  prospects,  she  at  length  being 
exhausted,  sunk  to  rest.  Early  in  the  morning  I  set  out 
with  my  letter,  to  deliver  the  same  to  Mr.  Huntington  ;  and 
^•hile  I  was  on  the  way  thither,  my  heart  was  in  a  state  of 
palpitating  anxiety,  for  fear  that  some  of  the  ten  thousand 
accidents  which  daily  happen  should  interfere  with  my  ob- 
taining assistance  from  my  present  and  only  prospect.  But 
my  fears  were  much  abated  after  delivering  the  letter,  and 
his  telling  me  to  call  at  10  o'clock  that  morning.  I  re- 
turned to  the  tavern  with  a  cheerful  countenance  and  ate  a 
breakfast  with  a  renewed  appetite.  I  did  not  fail  to  call 
precisely  at  the  hour  appointed,  and  to  my  inexpressible 
-  -  '  -'^f  Ived  from   Mr.   Huntington  ten  dollars.      The 


104  MEMOIRS  OF 

CiOiKis  ofpoverty  were  dissipated  in  a  moment,  and  for  a 
few  moments  I  beheld  myself  sufficiently  rich  to  answer 
every  gratification  of  -my  heart ;  but  this  delusive  vapor 
^oon  vanished,  for  I  found,  after  paying  my  passage  and 
expenses  at  the  tavern,  that  my  heap  of  treasure  began 
very  apparently  to  diminish.  I  had  by  this  time  deter- 
Tnined  to  bend  my  course  to  Georgia  as  fnst  as  possible, 
in  compli-ince  with  the  solicitations  of  my  friend  Hunting- 
Ion,  who  was  in  those  parts  in  the  practice  of  law.  But  to 
perform  a  journey  of  a  thousand  miles  with  my  finances 
was  apparently  a  difficult  task,  but  to  proceed  on  as  far  as 
ray  money  would  carry  mc,  was  what  I  thought  best,  and 
then  perhaps  there  might  offer  some  prospect  of  my  ob- 
taining business  of  some  nature  which  would  enable  mc 
to  earn  by  my  industry  sufficient  to  carry  me  on  again. 
"With  this  resolution  I  paid  my  passage  to  Philadelphia  in 
the  stage  waggon,  and  bid  farewel  to  the  state  of  New- 
York-  in  which  I  had  spent  so  many  pleasing  and  painful 
days.  I  found  by  this  time  my  health,  w^hich  never  was 
,G;cod  in  that  state,  grew  better,  and  after  a  very  agreeable 
passage,  arrived  at  Philadelphia  the  next  day  about  five  in 
the  afternoon^  where  I  put  up  at  one  Wm.  Elliot's,  at  the 
Pign  of  the  cross-keys,  whom  I  found  to  be  an  attentive 
and  agreeable  publican.  My  money  was  here  all  exhaust- 
ed, consequently  I  was  under  a  necessity  of  trying  some 
raeasurc  for  another  supply.  There  was  a  member  of 
Congress  in  Philadelphia,  by  the  name  of  Learned,  who 
V  :.s  partially  accrjainted  with  my  misfortunes,  and  of  con- 
jcqucnce,  I  expected  he  would  relieve  them.  I  accord- 
ingly made  application  to  him,  stating  my  circumstances 
and  views  to  him  in  as  concise  and  plain  terms  as  I  was 
'«bie,  it  being  then  evening,  and  he  engaged  for,  company 
(aS  he  said)  told  me  to  be  at  the  lobby  of  the  Congress- 
house,  at  the  time  of  their  going  in,  and  he  then  would 
see  me  again.  Accordingly  I  wailed  in  the  lobby  at  the 
time  appointed,  for  the  space  of  three  hours,  with  an  anx- 
i(;us  mind,  before  he  made  his  appearance.  He  told  me 
at  once,  after  1  saw  him,  that  he  had  a  damn'd  expensive 
family  to  maintain,  and  therefore  could  not  afford  any  as- 
eistance  to  beggars.     My  feelings  any  person,  will  more 


jf 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  ioi 

readily  conceive  upon  this  occasion  than  I  can  descmbe.  I 
told  him  I  did  not  wish  him  to  injure  his  o',vn  family  oi- 
glTe  to  me  as  a  beggar,  but  to  afford  me  temporary  assis- 
tance until  I  could  be  under  a  situation  to  help  myself, 
and  if  he  ^vo^dd  do  that  he  should  ever  find  that  I  possess- 
ed a  grateful  heart ;  but  all  my  entreaties  were  in  vain, 
and  I  was  forced  to  leave  him  with  a  heart  almost  burst- 
ing with  grief  and  indignation.  I  then  knew  net  what  to 
do,  or  which  way  to  turn  for.a  subsistence,  as  my  bituatiou 
then  was,  being  a  stranger  in  the  city,  and  no  person  lo 
recommend  me  to  business,  which  was  absolutely  ne- 
cessary, in  order  to  obtain  any. 

After  pondering  a  long  time  upon  the  gloomy  prospects 
before  me,  I  bethought  myself  of  another  person  of  whom 
there  was  a  probability  of  obtaining  some  help.  Tl\is  was 
likewise  a  member  of  Congress  by  the  name  of  Niles, 
from  the  state  of  Vermont.  T}iis  gentleman  was  an  inti- 
mate friend  of  my  father,  and  accordingly  I  was  in  expec- 
tation of  his  advancing  a  small  sum  of  money,  and  taking 
a  draught  upon  my  father  for  the  same.  This  man  pos- 
sessed a  sincere  good  heart,  and  was  a  man  of  great  meta- 
physical talents;  his  economical  system  had  raised  hiiu 
from  a  small  be<-!:inning  in  the  world  to  possess  a  handsome 
competency.  His  education  had  been  such  as  to  prepare 
him  for  the  clerical  function,  in  which  cliaracter  he  liad 
exhibited  for  a  number  of  years,  so  that  the  most  stiikinp:; 
features  in  his  character  were  his  great  fondness  for  close 
metaphysical  reasoning,  and  a  hi'.bit  of  great  ecanomy  in 
his  domestic  concerns,  aud  had  so  long  practised  upon  this 
system,  that  any  variation  from  it  in  a  person'^  conduct, 
or  any  want  of  success  in  a  person's  undertakings,  Avere  ii\ 
his  view  perfectly  wrong.  This  wtis  tlie  man  to  whom  I 
applied  for  assistance,  as  my  ultimatum.  I  described  my 
circuinstances  to  him  in  as  clear  terms  as  possible,  and  af- 
terwards told  him  of  the  request  I  wished  to  make.  With- 
out giving  me  an  answer  either  in  the  afnrnnitivc  or  nega- 
tive, he  went  on  with  a  lengthy  discourse  |o  prove  that  my 
system  of  economy  had  been  wrong,  drawing  a  comparison 
between  his  prosperity  and  my  ad\  eriity,  and  then  pointed 
out  a  certain  line  of-  conduct  that  I  ouQ,ht  then  to  take  un 
k3 


# 


106  MEMOIRS  OF 

and  observe,  and  offered  to  assist  me  in  prosecuting;  suQ.h  j 
but  as  his  plan  had  many  things  in  it  which  I  could  not 
reconcile  my  mind  to,  and  more  particularly  the  length  of 
time  which  would  iiitervene,  before  I  could  provide  for  my 
family,  I  took  the  liberty  of  reasoning  with  him  upon  the 
better  plan  which  I  had  marked  out  yi  my  own  mind.  This 
was  touching  him  in  the  tender  spot,  and  he  told  me  he 
was  happy  in  not  having  the  direction  of  rrA'  conduct ;  that 
I  must  do  as  1  chose,  but  that  he  had  no  idea  that  my  father 
would  answer  any  draught  upon  him,  and  therefore  coi^ld 
not  advance  nrie  any  money.  In  as  great  a  proportion  as 
my  hopes  had  been  fluttered  vrith  the  expectation  of  relief, 
in  tl.e  same  proportion  did  I  feel  the  k^nness  of  the  dis- 
iippointment,  when  I  was  refused  the  supply  which  1  sought 
for.  I  at  this  moment  viewed  myself  in  a  state  of  desper- 
ation, and  had  an  inclination  of  rushing  into  .the  streets 
and  commencin,2:  war  with  the  whole  human  race.  When 
I  took  a  view  of  the  worfd,  of  the  pomp  and  splendor  which 
surrounded  cro-vs'ds  that  perpcluaily  passed  before  my 
eyes,  to  see  them  roll  in  affluence  and  iuxury,-inhabitating 
lofty  houses,  with  superb  equipages,  and  feasting  upon  all 
the  delicacies  of  life  ;  under  these  affluent  circumstances, 
^'  ithholding  from  me  what  would  never  be  missed  from 
I'.eir  abundance  ;  myself  destitute  of  every  necessary  of 
life,  and  looking  in  Vcin  to  those  who  from  their  superflu- 
^  ■:  could  spare  enough  to  relieve  m,y  distress  and  feel  no 
>.iinuticn  in  their  own  property,  brou,^ht  to  my  mina  a 
-  in  of  ideas  thit  were  desperate  and  horrid,  and  almost 
-dnccd  me  to  a  state  cf  madness.  '  Under  this  situation  I 
cvoM  not  suppress  the  overflowings  of  my  feelings.  My 
eyes  lighted  up  with  indignation,  my  countenance  was  for- 
tified with  despr.ir,  my  heart  w.as  swolen  to  that  bigness 
v.hich  Wcjs  almost  too  large  for  my  breast  to  contain.  Un- 
,(!er  tiiis  situation  I  arose  wit'i  a  ti  unquil  horror,  composed- 
ly took  my  hat,  and  politely  bid  ?»Ir.  Nile s  farewel.  I  be- 
lieve the  desperate  emcti  jus  of  my  heart  were  apparently 
manifested, to  his  view  by  my  couitcnance,  his  apparent 
immoveable  insensibility  relaxed,  he  put  his  hand  in  his 
pocket  an.l  haided  me  three  dollars.  This  act  of  kind- 
if  S3  L't  a  moment  melted  the   ferocious  feelings   of  my 


« 


.  STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  io7 

heart,  and  I  burst  mto  tears  ;  all  those  desperate  sensa- 
tions vanished,  and  I  again  found  myself  a  man.  With 
this  small  sum  I  determined  to  leaye  the  city  of  Philadel- 
phia, and  still  pursue  on  towards  my  destined  place  of 
abode.  I  paid  my  tavern  bill,  which  I  found  much  smaller 
than  I  expected,  and  afterwards  took  the  Baltimore  stdge- 
wa.egon,  and  went  on  as  far  as  a  town  called  Warwick, 
about  half  way  to  Baltimore.  Here  finding  ray  money 
again  gone,  I  was  under  the  necessity  of  stopping  at  Hog- 
son's  tavern,  under  a  pretence  of  being  too  unwell  to  pur- 
sue my  journey  any  further.  I  found  at  this  house  a  young 
gentleman  by  the  name  of  Hawley,  who  was  originally 
from  Connecticut ;  and  having  more  confidence  in  him  on 
account  of  his  coming  from  the  same  part  of  the  country 
vith  myself,  I  told  him  my  circumstances,  and  begged 
liim  to  point  out  some  way  for  m.y  relief,  if  possible.  I  had 
it  in  conteiTiplation  to  obtain,  by  his  assistance,  a  small 
school,  or  an  opportunity  of  tending  a  store,  writing  in  an 
office,  or  something  else,  by  which  I  could  rai^e  a  little 
money  ;  but  no  such  chance  offering  to  his  mind,  I  accept- 
ed of  a  dollar  which  he  gave  me,  it  being  all  he  had,  and 
at  the  same  time  manifested  a  sincere  desire  to  give  me 
further  relief,  had  it  been  in  his  povrer.  With  the  dollar 
I  p;dd  for  my  lodging  and  breakfast,  and  left  money  suffi- 
cient for  my  trunk  to  be  brought  on  in  the  next  stage-wag- 
gon ;  this  taking  again  all  the  money  I  possessed,  I  pur- 
sued my  way  on  foot  without  being  mu  h  burdened  with 
the  weight  of  my  cash.  I  travelled  on  moderately,  and 
had  a  leisure  opportunity  of  taking  a  retrospective  viev/ 
of  my  life,  of  the  many  vicissitudes  to  which  I  had  been 
subject  from  my  first  commencing  an  active  part  upon 
the  great  stage  of  the  world.  I  took  a  view  of  the  virtuous 
and  vicious  among  mankind,  of  rewards  and  punishment, 
as  tl.ey  were  distributed  through  the  world,  and  could 
find  no  general  rule  in  v>hich  rewards  were  given  to  vir- 
tue and  punishments  to  >  ice,  but  that  good  and  ill  forlune 
was  promiscuously  scattered  through  the  world  without 
any  reference  to  virtue,  merit,  or  vice.  I  at  this  mofnent 
examined  my  own  heart  to  see  whether  I  was  suffering 
:'.  punishment  due  to  any  evil  which  I  had  done ;  I  cnre- 


108  MEMOIRS  OF 

fulljr  viewed  all  the  transactions  of  my  life,  and  the  mo- 
tives which  actuated  me  to  their  performance,  and  after 
canvaSsinf^  the  subject  maturely,  I  could  not  find  an  accu- 
sation that  my  heart  brought  against  mc.  That  I  had 
done-v/rong  in  many  instances,  through  imprudence,  the 
impetuosity  of  feelings,  and  a  misconception  of  things,  I 
was  perfeet'y  sensible  ;  but  that  it  had  unifornjly  and  ever 
been  my  desire  to  render  good,  rather  than  evil,  and  to 
avoid  injuring  every  person,  so  far  as  my  judgment 
would  serve,  was  a  truth  my  whole  soul  responded  to  with 
pleasure.  Why  then  it  was,  that  my  fortune  through  life 
sliould  be  marked  with  such  striking  instances  of  misery, 
was  a  mystery  to  me  in  the  dispensations  of  events,  that  I 
could  not  reconcile  to  my  feelings  of  right  and  wrong. 
These  reflections  had  so  wholly  engrossed  my  mind,  that 
T  had  almost  forgotten  my  situatien,  until  I  was  aroused 
from  this  reverie  by  the  calls  of  hunger.  I  had  now  walk- 
ed on  till  almost  night  without  eating,  and  began  to  grow 
faint  and  hungry.  What  to  do  I  did  not  know.  Money 
I  had  none,  and  to  ask  for  victuals  like  a  common  beggar, 
was  a  mortification  I  was  loth  to  submit  to  ;  yet  this  was 
the  only  alternative  to  which  I  could  have  recourse  ;  and 
observing  a  large  house  near  the  way  side,  I  was  deter- 
mined to  make  my  first  essay  in  it.  I  accordingly  fortifi- 
ed my  mind  with  all  the  resolution  possible,  to  go  through 
the  operation,  and  then  made  my  way  into  the  house.  I 
found  the  inside  of  the  house  elegant  and  well  furnished, 
and  a  lady  sitting  in  the  front  room,  who  appeared  to  be 
the  mistress  of  the  house  ;  notwithstanding  all  the  resolu- 
tion 1  hud  m-astered  on  this  occasion,  I  had  almost  failed 
of  making  the  attempt  of  asking  for  victuals,  and  had  de- 
termined once  in  my  own  mind  to  leave  the  house  without 
mentioning  any  business  which  brought  me  there;  but 
fiuclly  I  made  my  request  known.  My  coL\ntenance, 
which  was  always  a  strong  index  to  my  feelings,  I  believe 
?t  this  time  betrayed  my  inward  sensations.  The  lady 
immediately  ordered  her  servants  to  set  the  table  ;  while 
the  J  vyere  laying  the  cloth,  I  perceived  the  curiosity  of 
such  a  request,  coming  from  a  person  genteelly  dressed, 
and  whose  mamiers  were  not  of  that  rough  nuturc  as  those 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  l>^ 

'^'i  common  beggars,  had  raised  an  anxiety  in  her   mind  to 
know  more  of  my  circumstances,  and   the  reason   why   I 
\i'as  in  the  situation  in  which  1  then  appeared.     She  said, 
'•  I  presume,  sir,  you  have  been  unfortunate.'*      I  knew 
the  purport  of  her  question,  and  this  question  was  appvir- 
ently  asked  for  the  purpose  of  knowing  hotv  to  give  relief. 
'io  see  the  immediate  promptness  with  which  she  sought 
to  reheve  me.  to  see  her  solicitude  to  know  in  what  man- 
ner she  could  afford  me  farther  relief  than  by   supplymg 
me  with  food  for  the  present  moment,  had  divested  me  of 
all  resolution,   had   reduced   my  feelings  to   a  woman's 
weakness,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  I  restrained  a  shower 
of  tears;  so  that  I  was  unable  to  return  her   any  other  an- 
swer to  her  question,  than  "  Yes,  madam."     My  feelings 
had  taken  such  a  turn  as  to  divest  me  of  an  appetite,  which 
a  few  minutes  before  was  very  great,  so  th.\t  I  was  unable 
to  make  but  a  sorry  med,  from  a  full  table.     Her  frequent 
invitations  to  eat,  and  anxiety  to  know  if  any   thing   else 
would  suit  me  better,  but  added  to   my  present  exquisite 
feelings,  and  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty,    I  uttered 
the  monosyllable  "  No."     After  I  had  finished  my  repast, 
I  arose  to  depart, '.when  she  gave  me  a  warm  invitation  to 
t.^.rry  until  Doctor  IVIaxwell  came  home,  (vrho  I  found  was 
her  husband)  and  he  would,  she  said,  endeavor  to   relieve 
me  from  my  difficulty ;  but   finding  I  did   not  incline   to 
tarry,  she  desired  me  to  stop  a  moment,  and  immediately 
fetched  from  another  room  two  dollars  and  half  of  a  French 
crown,  with  a   desire  that  I  would   accept  them,  adding, 
she  was  sorry  it  was  out  of  her  power  of  doing  more,  by 
the  Doctor's  being  absent.     This  was   too  much  for  my 
1  esclution   to  support.     The  tears,   which  had  for  a  long 
lime  been  restrained,  now  foond  free  vent,  in  spite  of  ev- 
ery effort  to  the  contrary.     I  v/as  unable  to  speak  :  I  bow- 
ed and  retired.     Never  did  a  wretch  in  the  hour  of  dan- 
ger more  fervently  pray  for  his  own  salvation,  than  I  did 
for  the  peace  and  happiness  of  this  ornament  of  human 
nature.     Yes,  thou  lovely  image   of  the  God  of  benevo- 
lence !  may  ihy  gentle  bosom  never  feel  the  corroding 
pang  of  sorrow,  but   happiness,   exquisite   happiness,  be 
thy  Jievcr  failing  portion. 


y 


1 10  MEMOIRS  OF 

I  travelled,  until  half  after  nine  o'clock  at  niglu,  and  put 
up  at  the  housa  of  a  g-cnilcn>an  by  the  name  of  Black, 
where  I  was  treated  with  the  utmost  hospitality  and  atten- 
tion^ Here  I  had  recovered  my  appetite  so  as  to  eat  a  very 
hearty  supper,  and  the  next  morning  I  breakfiisted  as  hear- 
tily again.  Mr.  Black  g.ive  me  a  warm  invitation  to  spend 
the  day  with  him,  v/hich  I  declined,  and  calling  for  ray  bill, 
he  bid  me  welcome  to  the  whole,  telling  me  he  was  happy 
anytime  in  waiting  upon  gentlemen  at  his  house,  and  wish- 
ed ire  to  call  whenever  I  came  that  way  again.  I  travelled, 
on  from  thence  without  any  thing  further  occurring  wor- 
thy of  remark,  until  I  arrived  at  Chesteriown,  having  mo- 
ney sufficient  to  pay  my  expenses  thus  far.  Here  again  I 
was  reduced  to  the. want  of  a  penny  ;  and  knowing  I  must 
do  something,  or  give  up  all  further  hopes  of  success,  I 
determined  t  j  try  my  luck  among  some  of  the  people  of 
eminence  in  Chestertown,  by  stating  my  wants  to  them, 
and  working  upon  their  philanthropy.  I  accordingly  wait- 
ed upon  Mr.  Ferguson,  principal  of  the  College  in  that 
town,  with  an  account  of  my  circumstances,  and  to  my 
great  satisfaction,  he  told  me  he  vould  advance  five  dollars, 
if  that  would  be  of  any  service.  Tliis  give  me  an  oppor- 
tunity of  taking  the  stage-v/aggon  again  for  Baltimore,'  as 
my  trunk  had  by  this  time  come  on.  I  accordingly  took 
my  leave  of  this  worthy  friend  to  humanity,  and  seiout  for . 
Baltimore^  where  I  arrived  the  same  day,  and  put  up  at 
the  house  of  one  Stark.  Here  again  I  found  myself  in  my 
common  situation,  (viz.)  destitute  of  money.  I  found  the 
way  in  which  I  had  travelled  to  bcJiie  m.ost  expensive  way 
of  any  ;  and  of  course,  prudence  dictated  the  plan  of  trying 
if  possible  to  obtain  money  sufficient  to  carry  me  through 
my  journey,  by  water,  which  would  be  a  much  cheaper 
conveyance.  I  accordingly  applied  to  several  merchants, 
one  after  another,  who  had  connexions  in  Nevr-England, 
to  advance  me  twenty-five  dollars,  and  take  a  draught  for 
the  same  upon  some  of  my  friends  there  ;  l^ut  my  appM- 
cation  was  fruitless.  After  shewing  that  great  fondness 
for  knowing  all  the  particulars  relating  to  my  situation, 
'  which  is  peculiar  to  New-England  characters,  they  appear- 
ed to  be  satisfied,  -and  calmly  told  mc  that  it  did  not  com- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  1 1 1 

ponwith  their  vie\y  to  help  me  to  any  money.  I  had  tried 
such  a  number  of  my^  countrymen  and  failed  of  success, 
that  I  almost  despaired  of  obtaining  any  further  supplies, 
and  concluded  that  here  my  trarels  must  end  ;  yet  one 
more  expedient  came  into  my  mind.  I  had  found,  as  will 
be  perceived  by  the  relation  already  given,  that  the  native 
inhabitants  of  Maryland  possessed  that  noble  hospitality 
which  was  more  conspicuous  in  them  than  in  any  of  the 
people  of  states  in  which  I  had  been  ;  I  therefore  conclud- 
ed to  apply  for  once  to  some  chai'acter  who  was  a  nativ^ 
inhabitant  of  Baltimore.  'I  accordingly  waited  on  Luther 
IVIartin,  Esq.  Attorney-General  of  the  state,  who  immedi- 
ately, upon  knowing  my  desire,  answered  with  all  that  god- 
like nobleness  of  humanity,  which  appears  greater  than 
royal  pomp,  that  I  should  have  what  money  I.  wanted. 
This  threv/  me  into  such  a  delirium  ot  ecstacy,  that  I  hard- 
ly knew  what  I  said  or  did.  He  counted  me  out  thirty 
dollars  at  my  request;  and  when  I  came  to  write  an  obli- 
gation for  the  same,  my  whole  nervous  system  was  in  such 
a  tremor,  I  could  not  execute  the  business.  Mr.  Martin 
perceived  it,  and  relieved  me  by  doing  it  himself.  He,  to 
add  to  his  hospitality,  politely  invited  me  to  dine  with  him 
that  day,  it  being  then  early  in  the  morning,  which  invita- 
tion I  accepted.  I  now  considered  myself  in  u  situation 
capiible  of  performing  the  long  wished  for,  the  long  sought 
for  object  of  my  desires,  ('viz.)|to  arrive  in  Georgia,  at  the 
residence  of  my  friend  Huntington,  where  I  had  no  doubt 
of  every  necessary  assistance,  both  for  present  n^ed  and 
future  prospects  in  business.  I  accordingly  applied  at  the 
\Vharves  for  a  vessel  bound  to  Georgia,  but  found  none  go- 
ing short  of  eight  or  ten  days  ;  this  was  somewhat  of  a  dis- 
appointinent,  on  account  of  the  delay  ;  but  supposing  I  had 
money  sufficient  to  pay  my  expenses  in  town  for  that  length 
of  time,  and  likewise  the  passage,  I  felt  tolerably  content- 
ed. At  noon  I  went  and  dined  vnih  ]ftr.  Martin  ;  but  not 
jefore  I  had  met  with  somewhat  of  a  singular  accident. 
Saving  a  little  leisure  on  my  hands  from  the  time  of  mak- 
ng  the  necessary  inquiry  for  a  passage,  till  noon,  I  took  a 
itrojl  through  the  town,  in  order  to  take  a  view  of  it,  and 
'.he  '-""^li'-  buildings  in  a  p:irticulur  manner.     After  view- 


H2  MEMOIRS  OF  - 

ing  the  market-house,  church,  &c.  I  went  to  view  the  jail. 
Whilst  I  was  taking  a  look  at  it,  there  came   a   gallows 
looking  fellow  out  of  that  part  of  the  building,  which  was 
occupied  as  a  dwelling-house,  and   in   a  very   imperious 
tone,  demanded  my  business.     The  looks  of  this  fellow 
plainly  demonstrated  him  to  be  a  candidate  for  a  patient 
of  a  public  executioner.     I    answered  his   demand   with 
this  reply,   *'  that  my  curiosity  had  led  me  there  to  take  a 
view  of  the  building,  and  if  I  was  not  transgressing  any 
rules  of  the  place,  still  wished  to  gratify  my  curiosity." 
lie  made  me  no  answer,  but  went  into  the  house,  and  soon 
there  came  out  an  elderly  looking  man,  genteelly  dressed, 
and  politely  desired  to  know  if  I   wished  to  see  the  jail. 
My  answer  being  in  the  affirmative,  he  told  me  he  would 
give  me  every  assistance  in   pointing  out  whatever  was 
worth  observation.     I  gratefully  accepted  his  offer,  and 
we  took  a   turn  through  the  jail  and   garden  adjoining, 
where  we  took  a  seat  at  his  desire.     Here  he  entered  into 
a  detail  of  some  of  the  crimes  of  the  prisoners,  and  among 
the  rest  related  the  adventures  of  one  Davis,  who  was  then 
in  confinement  for  theft.     I  asked  what  sort  of  a  man  Da- 
vis was  for  height,  looks,  £cc.  and  told  him  I  knew  a  man 
by  that  name  in  the  eastern  states,  but  not  of  his  descrip- 
tion, v.'ho  had  left  the  eastern  for  the  southern  states.     As  . 
the  time  had  now  elapsed  for  my  being  at  Mr.    Martin's, 
I  told  the  person  who  was  eiving  me   these  lengthy  ac- 
counts, that  being  engaged  to  dine  with    a  gentleman  by 
particular  invitation,  I  felt  myself  under  a  necessity   of 
leaving  him ;  but  if  he  would  drink  anything  for  his  trou- 
ble it  should  be  at  his  service.      He  requested  to  know 
with  whom  I  was  going  to  dine.     This  question   I  con- 
ceived to  be  a  piece   of  impertinence,   but  could  not  yet 
think  it  was  designed,  and  therefore  told  him.     Upon  this 
he  told  mc  he  was  well  acquainted  wiih   Mr.   Martin,  and 
that  he  would  not  dine  for  two  hours  yet  to  come,   and 
wished  me  to  sit  with  him  yet  longer.      This  request  in 
such  a  manner,  attended  with  the  circumstance  of  his  im- 
pertinent question,  made  me  conclude  his  company  would 
be  no   longer  gratifying,   and   I   accordingly  told   him  I 
should  not  stay  any  .longer.     I  arose  from  my  seat  to  go 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  1 1 S 

through  the  house,  as  that  was  the  only  way  out  of  the 
garden,  and  he  followed  me.  When  I  came  into  the 
house,  and  was  met  by  the  first  person,  who  accosted  me 
about  my  business,  and  he,  together  with  the  other,  caught 
hold  of  me,  and  told  me  I  must  stop.  At  this  time  there 
came  four  more  likewise  out  of  the  room  adjoining.  My 
indignation  at  this  treatment  was  aroused,  and  I  told  them 
that  whatever  their  prospects  might  be  about  abusing  and 
robbing  me,  they  would  find  to  their  cost  they  had  the 
wrong  person  in  tow,  and  that  should  their  bankrupt  cir- 
cumstances prevent  any  remedy  by  civil  process,  yet  a 
criminal  prosecution  should  teach  them  to  use  strangers 
with  common  civility.  At  this,  there  appeared  another 
character,  who  styled  himsQif  a  magistrate,  and  inquired 
into  my  coming  chere  Rnd  asking  after  Davis.  I  told  hiiu 
if  he  v/ished  to  know  the  matter  for  any  valuable  purpose, 
I  would  tell  him  ;  but  if  he  wished  to  be  an  instrument  in 
carrying  on  the  farce  of  rascality  which  had  been  be.jun,  I 
felt  no  disposition  to  give  him  an  answer.  He  protested 
his  innocence  as  relating  to  any  farce,  suid  that  this  Davis 
had  been  apprehended  v/ith  strong  suspicions  of  his  having 
accomplices,  and  that  therefore  it  was  ordered  by  the  court, 
to  apprehend  any  peraon  who  should  come  and  inquire  af- 
ter him.  I  then  related  the  circumstances  which  bro'jght 
me  there,  and  why  I  asked  concerning  Davis;  at  this  the 
magistrate  concluded  I  might  be  dismissed.  After  I  had 
departed,  and  came  to  reflect  upon  the  farce  which  had 
been  acted,  the  humor  of  the  circumstances,  and  the  per- 
fect propriety  with  which  every  character  had  played  his 
part,  it  raised  a  laughable  disposition  in  my  mind,  and 
dissipated  every  feeling  of  revenge  which  I  had  before 
entertained. 

The  next  morning  I  thought  it  necessary  to  look  into 
th&  state  of  expenses  which  would  attend  my  ten  days 
residence,  and  accordingly  applied  for  my  bill]  at  the 
tavern,  which  to  my  astonishment  amounted  to  three  dol- 
lars and  a  half.  Finding  this  to  be  the  case,  I  concluded 
it  neccssaiy  to  decamp  immediately,  while  1  had  any 
money  remaining  to  carry  me  away. ' 

VOL.    H.  L 


114  MEMOIRS  OF 

Not  beins^  able  to  obtain  a  water  passage,  I  again  be- 
;ook  myself  to  the  stage-waggon,  and  continued  my  course 
to  Alexandria  in  Virginia,  without  any  material  occurrence. 
Here  I  put  up  at  Wise's  tavern,  and  found  that  the  stage 
would  not  travel  south  from  here,  for  the  space  of  six 
days,  therefore  was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  tarrying 
that  term  of  time.  During  this  I  found  my  tavern  expen- 
ses, together  with  what  I  had  already  paid,  would  swallow 
up  all  my  money  with  which  I  had  calculated  to  reach 
Georgia,  Accordingly  I  became  extremely  embarrassed, 
and  began  to  cast  in  my  mind  some  way  to  extricate  my- 
self from  the  difficulty.  Matters  being  thus  situated, 
there  came  a  gentleman  into  my  room,  belonging  to  the 
back  part  of  Virginia,  and  offered  me  a  tract  of  land,  con- 
taining 25,000  acres.  Immediately  a  thought  occurred 
to  my  mind,  suggested  by  the  impulse  of  necessity,  viz. 
to  get  this  land  into  my  hands,  and  with  the  avails  there- 
of to  ansvrcr  my  present  necessities,  ai:>d  after  a  course  of 
time  discharge  the  demand  which  might  occur  in  conse- 
quence of  the  purchase.  I  inquired  the  price  at  which  he 
held  the  land.  He  informed  me  that  he  held  his  land  at 
fourteen  pence  the  acre.  Intending  to  buy  so  cheap  as  to 
be  able  to  sell  again  upon  such  terms  as  to  be  in  a  condi- 
tion to  discharge  my  debt,  if  such  should  occur,  I  replied 
to  this  amount,  "  thai  being  on  a  journey  I  did  not  carr)^ 
money  about  me  for  such  an  extensive  purchase  ;  but  if 
he  felt  himself  willing  to  take  my  obligations  to  become 
due,  one  third  in  three  months,  one  third  in  six,  and  one 
third  in  nine  months,  I  would  take  his  land  at  a  shilling- 
per  acre  ;  and  more  than  that  I  would  not  give.  After 
sonve  debate  upon  the  subject,  the  person  (his  name  is 
gone  from  my  memory)  concluded  to  embrace  my  offer, 
and  accordingly  writings  were  made  and  executed,  and  I 
invested  with  this  extensive  tract  of  land  upon  the  credit 
of  my  own  obligations,  none  of  whom  became  due  short  of 
three  months. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  115 

CHAP.  vni. 

A  NOW  felt  myself  in  some  measure  relieved  from  my 
state  of  penury  ;  but  my  property  was  in  no  measure  in 
the  situation  which  was  necessary  for  my  present  circum- 
stances. Accordingly  I  began  to  cast  about  in  my  mmd 
some  way  to  appropriate  this  property,  or  at  least  a  part 
of  it,  to  raise  the  necessary  cash  for  my  journey.  Whilst 
I  was  under  these  cogitations  I  was  accosted  by  a  Mr. 
Patten,  (if  I  remember  rightly  the  name)  a  Scotch  gen- 
tleman, for  the  purchase  of  my  land,  and  he  offered,  with- 
out hesitation,  to  give  me  the  same  price  which  I  had  be- 
come obligated  for,  and  to  pay  me  cash  in  hand. 

Cash  in  hand,  of  all  other  offers,  was  what  suited  me 
the  best,  and  I  immediately  closed  with  his  offer.  I  made 
and  executed  the  deed  directly,  and  he  counted  out  four 
thousand  one  hundied  and  sixty-six  dollars,  and  two  thirds. 
At  this  sudden  and  surprising  reverse  of  fortune,  my 
mind  was  in  a  state  which  I  hardly  know  how  to  describe. 
I  saw  before  me  a  heap  of  treasure  far  beyond  what  I  had 
ever  been  the  possessor  of  before,  even  in  my  most  pros- 
perous days.  But  a  momentbefore  I  had  been  at  my  wii's 
ends  to  know  how  to  raibe  money  sufficient  to  cany  me. 
out  of  Alexandria.  Now  I  saw  miyself,  in  my  imagina- 
tion, in  possession  of  an  independent  fortune,  sufficient  to 
support  myself  and  family  with  economy  through  life  ;  my 
heart  was  fascinated  with  the  prospect  of  being  able  im- 
mediately to  return  and  relieve  my  family.  I  concluded 
upon  this  measure,  and  bid  farewel  to  Georgia.  I  imme- 
diately applied  to  the  stage-omce  for  a  seat  to  Balliniorc, 
and  whilst  I  was  taking  my  money  from  my  pocket  to  pay 
for  a  seat  in  the  stage-waggon,  it  sudderily  rushed  into  my 
mind,  for  the  first  time,  that  all  the  money  which  I  then 
possessed  would  soon  become  due  to  the  person  of  whom 
I  bought  the  land.  This  thought  dashed  all  my  prospects 
in  a  moment,  and  I  suffered  the  infinite  mordfication  of 
finding  all  my  animating  hopes  of  returning  to  my  family, 
blasted  in  a  moment. 

I  withdrew  my  hand  from  my  pocket,  made   some   ex- 
cuse for  not  taking;  the  scat  in  the  stage,   and   reiurned  to 


m 


116  MEMOIRS  OF 

my  lodgings.  Here  I  endeavored  to  call  my  thoughts 
together  and  adjust  my  pursuit  to  my  situation.  A  thought 
soon  occurred  of  speculating  upon  my  own  paper.  I 
therefore  repaired  to  the  man  of  whom  I  bought  the  land, 
and  after  some  preliminary  discourse,  told  him  that  I 
would  pay  him  immediately,  providing  he  would  make  me 
a  hacdsome  allowance.  He  finally  agreed  to  allow  me  a 
discouni  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  upon  my  notes, 
and  I  accordingly  paid  him  the  money. 

Finding  myself  now  in  possession  of  nearly  one  hundred 
•and  fifty  dollars,  I  again  began  my  journey  southward.  In 
travelling  through  Virginia,  I  uniformly  met  with  that 
polite  attention  from  the  gentlemen  of  the  country,  for 
which  they  are  so  remarkable,  and  which  renders  their 
society  so  extremely  pleasing.  Nothing  of  unusual  mo- 
ment occurring  whilst  I  was  on  my  journey  through  this 
state,  I  shall  not  detain  your  attention  with  the  relation  of 
common  events. 

In  passing  through  North -Carolina,  I  put  up  for  the 
night  at  the  house  of  one  Smead,  on  the  banks  of  the  Ne- 
us  river.  Being  about  to  depart  the  next  morning,  I  dis- 
covered my  trunk  broken  open,  and  on  examination,  found 
ix  bundle  of  fine  clothes  taken  out,  and  with  it  one  hundred 
nnd  ten  dollars,  it  being  all  my  money,  excepting  two  or 
ihrce  dollars  which  I  had  in  my  pocket.  I  tried  all 
measures  for  the  recovery  of  my  money,  which  offered 
r^nv  prospect  of  succeeding.  The  Supreme  Court  then 
filling  in  "Wilmington,  I  laid  the  matter  before  Judges 
Ash  and  M'Lry.  but  found  no  ciicumstftnce  of  alleviation 
from  any  measures  wliich  I  took.  I  was  again  reduced  to 
very  deplorable  circumstRnces,  and  did  not  know  what  fur- 
ther to  do.  My  cuse  v.as  generally  kncvn.  Yet  no  man 
offered  to  aswst  mc  in  any  measure,  until  a  young  gentle- 
mr.n,  by  the  name  of  Huntington,  and  another  by  the  name 
of  Bowen,  (a  clcrp-yman)  gave  me  sufficient  to  discharge 
riv  tavern  bill  at  Wilmington,  wliich  in  the  course  of  twen- 
ty'hourshad  amounted  to  the  enormous  sum  of  three 
pounds  ten  shillings.  The  name  of  this  conscientious 
Uiidiord  was  Dawsv. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  1 1 

I  cofttrActed  with  the  skipperof  a  coastini^  sloop  to  fetch 
me  to  Charleston,  in  South-Carolina,  for  four  dollars,  and 
put  my  trunk  into  his  hands  as  a  security  until  I  should 
pay  him  the  money.  We  arrived  soon  at  Charleston,  and 
being  partially  acquainted  with  a  Mr.  Thayer,  merchant, 
I  applied  to  him,  and  he  humanely  assisted  me  to  go  on 
to  Georgia. 

When  I  entered  this  town  it  was  evening,  and  I  looked 
with  eager  desire  to  behold  some  situation  resembling  such 
as  my  fancy  had  pictured  in  my  own  mind  for  my  friend 
Huntington's.  My  soul  was  attuned  to  the  soft  harmony 
and  tender  touches  of  friendship.  I  had  pictured  in  my 
mind  a  thousand  tender  expressions  and  pleasing  obser- 
vations, after  meeting  once  again,  w  hich  would  mutually 
pass  between  us.  Eight  years  had  elapsed  since  we  had 
seen  each  other.  We  both  had  passed  thix)ugh  many  un- 
usual and  trying  scenes  during  that  period.  We  had 
both  a  great  store  of  amusement  for  each  other  in  the  re- 
lation of  our  adventures,  more  prirticularly  those  where 
tlie  feelings  of  the  heart  were  deeply  interested.  And 
what  greater  pleasure  can  exist  than  granting  pleasure  to 
our  friend  ?  I  now  fancied  the  end  of  my  trymg  pilgrimage 
had  ariived,  and  that  I  should  here  find  a  resting  place  from 
further  trouble.  I  eagerly  inquired  of  the  first  man  I  saw 
for  a  direction  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Kundngton.  I  was  in- 
formed that  ^Ir.  Huntington  did  not  live  in  V\'ashington, 
that  his  family  had  gone  to  the  New-England  states,  and 
that  he  was  in  South-CaroUna,  or  else  gone  on  to  the  north- 
ward after  them. 

This  information  was  like  the  sentence  of  death.  My 
blood  revolved  back  to  my  heart  in  death-like  chills,  and  I 
saw  nothing  but  destruction  staii?.g  me  fullin  the  face  ;  a 
total  and  absolute  stranger,  not  so  much  as  knowing  a  sin- 
gle character  in  this  state  from  hearsay  5  again  become 
destitute  of  money,  and  what  further  to  do,  or  where  to 
go,  I  was  totally  at  a  loss.  In  the  room  of  making  a  sud- 
den establishment  for  my  family  in  this  country,  I  saw  no 
prospect  of  providing  for  my  own  bare  necessities. 

By  this  time  you  will  begin  to  think  that  I  was  the 
sport  and  plaything  of  fortune,  and  that  ^he  delighted  in 
L  2 


lis  MEMOIRS  OF 

tantalizing  mc  v.ith  false  hopes  in  order  to  sec  how  great 
^vas  my  fortitude  to  endure  disappointment.  However, 
as  Esop  says  in  the  fable  of  the  frogs,  "  It  might  be  play 
to  her,  but  it  was  death  to  me.*' 

I  put  up  for  the  night  at  the  house  of  our  friend  Teron- 
det,  and  ruminated  on  my  situation,  and  upon  my  plan  of 
operation  for  the  future.  I  arose  in  the  morning  and  be- 
gan to  inquire  of  my  landlord  into  the  nature  and  situation 
of  the  country,  and  the  prospect  of  obtaining  business.  I 
learned  in  the  course  of  inquiry  that  the  academy  in  this 
town  Y,as  destitute  of  a  Rector,  and  that  General  William- 
•••on  was  Principal  of  the  commissioners  superintending 
the  ?.cademical  affairs.  To  hitn  I  therefore  applied,  and 
introduced  myself  as  a  person  wishing  for  business,  and 
ofivjred  to  act  in  the  capacity  of  Rector  of  the  academy. 

The  General  asked  whether  I  had  any  credentials  by 
which  I  could  shew  my  ability  as  a  Rector,  so  as  to  ensure 
liis  confidence.  I  answered  in  the  afTirmative,  and  said  if 
he  would  give  mean  opportunity  I  would  exhibit  them. 
At  this  answer  the  General  looked  me  in  the  face  as 
though  he  was  waiting  for  a  further  explanation,  not  yet 
understanding  fully  the  mc:ining  of  my  reply.  I  then  ob- 
served that  my  credentials  were  in  my  head,  and  that  I 
v.-anted  the  opportunity  of  one  fortnight  as  Rector  of  the 
vicademy  to  give  him  the  satisfaction  which  he  desired. 
The  General  seemed  diverted  with  this  reply,  but  still 
was  desirous  for  further  inforniaiicn  upon  the  subject.  •  I 
then  stated  to  him  in  order  the  situation  I  was  under,  and 
the  disappointment  I  had  met  with  on  account  of  not  find- 
ing Mr.  Huntington,  withwhom  I  was  particularly  ac- 
quainted. 

This  account  gave  entire  satisfaction  ;  and  I  was  placed 
immediately  at  the  head  of  the  academy,  where  I  have 
flattered  myself  I  have  exhibited  the  promised  creden- 
tials. 

I  began  my  business  under  such  circumstances  as  would 
naturally  lead  me  to  strong  exertions,  in  order  to  appear 
with  some  degree  of  reputation  at  the  head  of  this  acade- 
my. I  spared  no  pains  to  effect  such  a  purpose,  and  soon 
brcuj^ht  mv  school  into  a   state  of  order  suSicient  to  en- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

are  a  i*apicl  progress  in  literary  improvement.  My  pros- 
pects for  such  a  purpose  ^vere  not  at  first  view  of  the  flat- 
tering* kind.  I  found  the  children  who  frequented  my 
school  generally  under  t)ie  care  of  rich  parents,  educated 
without  order,  sjstem  or  discipline  ;  accustomed  to  the 
most  unlimited  gratification  of  thetr  passions  and  appe- 
tites, without  any  idea  of  subordination,  but  on  the  contra- 
ry indulged  in  the  constant  exercise  of  authority  over  the 
l^lacks.  Notwithstanding  these  discouraging  circum- 
stances, I  succeeded  in  my  undertaking  beyond  my  most 
sanguine  expectations.  My  school  increased  apace,  and 
fortune  for  one  moment  was  willing  to  smile  on  m.y  en- 
deavors. I  received  the  co-operation  of  the  leading  char- 
acters cf  the  place  in  the  establishment  of  my  academic 
discipline,  together  with  the  decided  approbation  of  the 
board  of  commissioners,  who  held  the  funds  of  the  acade- 
my, and  superintended  its  general  concerns. 

In  order  to  give  you  some  general  idea  of  the  state  of 
literature,  custom^  and  manners  through  this  state,  I  will 
describe  the  several  characters  who  composed  the  board 
of  commissioners,  as  a  specimen,  which  will  answer  for  k 
tolerable  description  of  the  people  through  the  state. 

General  Williamson  was  their  president,  a  man  by  na- 
ture endowed  with  strong  mental  powers,  bold,  enterpris- 
ing and  ambitious.  His  education  was  small,  his  mind 
was  uncultivated,  and  liic  opportunities  for  information  in 
the  circles  of  refinement  were  veryniuch  circumscribed  ; 
notwithstanding,  from  a  very  low  beginning  he  made  his 
way  merely  by  the  strength  of  native  genius,  to  opulence 
and  respectability  among  his  countr)men.  He  had  been 
a  famous  partizan  leader  during  the  revolutionary  war, 
where  the  contest  had  been  managed  between  the  whigs 
and  tories,  much  after  the  manner  of  the  Indians,  in  whose 
neighborhood  the  chief  scenes  of  slaughter  and  bloodshed 
were  exhibited.  From  these  circumstances  the  General 
had  imbibed  the  temper  cf  the  natives  in  many  respects^ 
Strong  in  friendship,  even  to  seek  the  life  of  his  friend's 
enemy  ,  implacable  in  his  resentments  ;  patient,  perse- 
vering and  entei  prising.  Fond  of  his  own  family  to  ex- 
travagance, and  very  desirous  to  fit  them  for  public  scr- 


120  MEMOIRS  OF 

vice  and  usefulness.  His  family  did  not  disappoint  the 
warm  expectations  of  their  fond  parent.  His  oldest  son, 
Charles,  was  fast  following  his  father  in  the  career  of  mil- 
itary fame,  and  now  held  the  commission  of  colonel,  with 
much  reputation  ;  his  second,  Micajah,  was  a  major  ;  and 
his  third,  Peter,  was  a  practising  attorney.  His  oldest 
daughter  was  married  to  General  John  Clerk  ;  his  second 
to  John  Griffin,  Esq.  an  attorney,  concerning  whom  more 
Avill  soon  be  said ;  his  third,  to  Doctor  Bird ;  all  these 
daughters  were  characters  of  very  amiable  manners,  who 
would  have  done  honor  to  a  drawing  room,  in  the  politest 
circles. 

John  Griffin,  Esq.  was  the  second  commissioner  of  this 
board.  He  was  a  man  of  handsome,  though  not  great  a- 
bilities.  His  education  had  been  barely  sufficient  for  his 
practice  at  the  bar.  He  was  master  of  but  a  very  partial 
share  of  knowledge  in  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences.  He 
was  endowed  with  industry  and  enterprise :  fond  of  insin- 
uating himself  into  the  affections  of  people  by  flattery, 
for  effecting  which,  he  had  considerable  abilities,  and  in 
return  he  lent  a  very  willing  ear  to  the  flatterer.  He  was 
hospitable,  humane,  and  benevolent,  and  very  attentive  to 
measures  of  public  benefit.  He  had  begun  his  career  at 
the  lov^'est  state  of  poverty  and  obscurity,  and  by  the  mere 
dint  of  perseverance,  had  surmounted  all  obstacles,  and 
raised  himself  to  notice  and  estf^em.  Colonel  Willis  held 
the  third  place  among-  ^^^  commissioners.  He  formerly 
represented  the  state  of  Georgia  in  the  federal  Congress. 
He  was  a  man  of  an  amiable  heart,  of  the  most  friendly 
and  benevolent  disposition,  but  somewhat  versatile  in  his 
pursuits,  and  not  the  most  accurate  economical  calculator. 
Doctor  Rustin  was  an  automaton  in  this  and  every  other 
society.  Mr.  Terondet,  a  Frenchman  by  birth,  who  bore 
the  character  of  a  good  honest  thriving  man,  without  any 
other  recommendations  or  disqualifications  which  were 
calculated  to  claim  the  attention  of  mankind. 

I  received  an  invitation  from  General  Williamson  to 
make  my  abode  with  him,  having  three  of  his  children  un- 
der mv  care. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  131 

I  had  not  long  resided  in  this  town  before  I  began  to 
leam  the  leading  objects  of  the  principal  characters  in- 
habiting this  state.  I  found  a  rage  for  land  speculation, 
which  absorbed  the  attention  of  all  classes.  This  in  the 
first  instance  had  been  a  business  conducted  upon  a  fair 
scale,  and  attended  with  vast  profit :  at  that  stage  it  was 
managed  by  ii  few  ;  but  at  length  the  business,  from  which 
-such  great  profit  being  derived,  becoming  known,  all  were 
seized  with  the  mania  of  rushing  suddenly  into  immense 
wealth,  and  the  most  nefarious  schemes  were  put  in  prac- 
tice to  defraud  a  credulous  world  with  the  idea  of  becom- 
ing interested  in  the  excellent  soil  of  Georgia  lands.  Cor- 
ruption had  proceeded  so  far  as  to  produce  an  open  and  no- 
torious violation  of  all  the  public  offices  established  for 
the  regulation  of  the  sale  of  ungranted  lands.  Hence, 
millions  of  acres,  which  never  bud  existence,  were  sold  in 
the  other  states,  and  to  foreigners  ;  and  millions  more 
were  sold  many  times  over  by  the  same  person.  Such  in- 
iquity could  not  remain  long  undiscovered;  strangers  in 
some  measure  becan>e  acquainted  with  the  frauds  of  Geor- 
gin,  and  of  course  the  proutscf  these  speculations  ce?.sed. 

The  greatest  part  of  the  state  of  Georgia  remained  yet 
uninhabited,  and  under  the  Indian  claims.  This  tract  of 
land  extended  the  distance  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
west,  to  the  river  Mississippi,  and  cr  itained  the  most  fer- 
tile soil  in  the  southern  st-^.tes.  A  scheme  was  concerted 
by  a  number,  who  formed  themEelves  into  companies  for 
the  purpose,  to  purchase  the  pre-emption  of  the  state  to 
the  greater  part  of  these  lands.  General  Gunn,  Senator 
in  the  Tederal  Congress,  was  tlie  leading  character  of  these 
companies.  This  association  produced  a  counter  combi- 
nution  among  a  number  of  others,  at  the  head  of  whom 
was  Mr.  Few,  former  member  of  Congress  from  this 
s>tate,  and  quondam  Governor.  The  purport  of  this  asso- 
ciaiicn  was  to  outbid  or  otherwise  gain  the  purch?.se  of 
this  land  to  themselves,  from  the  other  companies. 

At  the  sitting  of  the  Legislature  in  Au.s:usta,  the  town 
">.is  cro^yded  with  characters  who  were  interested  in  this 

'siness.     The  spirit  of  the  two  parties  had  become  wainn 

iu  viiiimated,  and  all  the  arts  of  intrigue,   corruption  unci 


122  MEMOIRS  OF 

venality  were  put  in  practice  by  both  parties  to  carry  their 
farorite  point.  Gunn  and  his  associates  were  ultimately 
successful,  to  the  great  mortification  and  resentment  of 
the  others.  This  was  a  signal  of  al^arm  which  aroused  the 
individual  inhabitants  of  the  whole  state  to  take  an  active 
part  in  the  contest.  The  triumphant  party  were  not  anx- 
ious to  carry  their  animosities  to  any  greater  length  against 
their  opponents.  They  had  gained  the  prize,  and  were 
willing  that  the  disappointed  party  should  console  them- 
selves by  bitter  invectives  and  murmurs.  Gunn  and  his 
party  obtained  grants  from  the  state  to  the  amount  of 
twenty-two  millions  of  acres  of  a  most  fertile  and  pleasant 
country. 

The  exertions  of  the  disappointed  party  produced  an  ef- 
fect, perhaps  never  before  known  under  any  government. 
They  bestirred  themselves  ao  effectually  as  to  obtain  a 
very  decided  majority  of  members  of  the  legislature  at 
the  next  election,  a  year  after  the  grant  was  made  to  Gunn 
and  others,  and  to  the  astonishment  of  all  mankind,  they 
rescinded  the  act  of  the  former  Legislature,  erased  it  from 
their  records,  an:l  declared  it  to  be  null  and  void  ;  not- 
withstanding the  grantees  had  actually  paid  the  purchase 
money  long  before  into  the  state  treasury,  and  had  disposed 
of  much  of  their  lands  to  various  characters  through  the 
union. 

This  session  of  the  Legislature  assumed  judiciaiy  pow- 
ers, examiried  v.itnesses  concerning  the  means  of  obtain- 
ing the  grant,  and  proceeded  to  declare,  that  the  grantees 
had  obtained  their  grants  by  bribery  and  corruption,  and 
that  of  course  the  grants  were  null  and  void. 

However,  to  return  from  this  digression,  I  found  my 
school  increase  apace,  and  some  of  the  best  geniuses  were 
discovered  in  this  academy  that  ever  fell  under  my  instruc- 
tion, particularly  a  daughter  of  General  Williamson,  of  the 
age  of  fifteen,  i  he  brilliancy  of  her  wit,  the  strength  of 
her  mind,  and  the  amiable  disposition  of  her  heart,  were 
objects  of  the  most  pleasing  kind. 

I  will  now  present  you  with  a  course  of  letters  which 
have  passed  between  me'  and  my  friends  since  I  left  the 
state  of  New-York. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  123 

Charlton,  Sept.  10,   1794. 

To  Mr.  WILLIAM  HALSEY,  Bridghampton. 

According  to  our  arrangements,  I  embrace  the  first  op- 
portunity of  giving  you  information  of  my  situation,  that 
you  may  communicate  the  same  to  Mr.  Burroughs  as  soon 
as  you  can  gain  intelligence  of  the  place  of  his  residence. 

My  father  has  made  comfortable  provision  for  me  and 
my  children,  in  a  house  adjoining  to  my  brother-in-law, 
who  keeps  a  store  of  general  assortments,  to  which  I  have 
access  without  restraint,  on  my  father's  account. 

My  friends  treat  me  with  attention  and  pity,  without  any 
of  that  gall  of  bitterness  which  is  apt  to  attend  on  one  in 
dependent  circumstances. 

Application  has  been  made  by  Mr.  Burroughs'  parents 
to  have  my  oldest  child,  Edward,  lire  ^vith  them.  I  ex- 
pect he  will  set  out  from  here  for  such  a  purpose,  next 
week. 

My  mind  is  filled  with  constant  anxiety  on  the  account 
of  Mr.  Burroughs.  I  have  heard  nothing  from  him  since 
I  left  Long-Island  upon  which  I  can  depend.  Many  re- 
ports are  prevailing  here  of  the  most  disagreeable  kind,  re- 
specting him.  Some  say  he  is  in  the  prison  of  New-York, 
and  some  say  he  is  not  in  prison,  but  spending  his  time  in 
rioting  and  drunkenness,  without  any  attention  to  me  or 
his  family. 

Probably  it  is  thought  that  these  reports  may  gain  a 
standing  in  my  mind,  and  cause  me  much  pain.  But  those 
who  suggest  them  are  not  so  well  acquainted  with  facts  as 
they  ought  to  be,  or  else  they  would  never  harbor  or  sur- 
mise such  disagreeable  ideas. 

You  will  wonder  at  my  feeling  disagreeable  when  you 
take  into  consideration,  that  our  separation  was  produced 
by  the  blackest  malice  of  a  few  who  call  themselves  the 
children  of  God,  but  to  others  it  appeared  that  they  were 
the  children  of  the  devil,  whose  ready  service  they  per- 
formed. 

You  may  think  my  expressions  uncharitable,  possibly; 
but,  sir,  consider  I  am  wounded  in  a  tender  point,  and  con- 


124  MEMOIRS  OF 

sider  this  is  a  truth  which  I  have  felt  with  the  liveliest  sen- 
sations. To  be  separated  in  such  a  manner  from  a  kind 
and  tender  husband  ;  to  see  him  banished  from  his  family, 
thrown  out  again  into  the  open  world  in  a  state  of  the  most 
destitute  poverty,  exposed  to  difficulties  in  every  shape. 
May  truth  be  his  guide  through  every  scene.  These 
things  present  to  our  view  this  picture  of  human  nature, 
viz.  feeble  in  itself,  liable  to  so  many  casualties  ;  tortured 
with  so  many  pains ;  visited  by  so  many  maladies ;  crazed 
with  so  many  cares  ;  worn  down  by  so  many  sorrows  ;  so 
dependent  on  others  for  succor,  relief  and  consolation : 
but  truth  possesses  the  power  to  revive,  improve  and  ma- 
ture the  feelings  of  humanity.  The  spirit  of  truth  is  a 
spirit  of  commiseration  and  charity,  therefore  let  selfish- 
ness be  done  away  ;  let  benevolence  be  cultivated.,  let  truth, 
pure  and  undenled,  be  maintained,  and  we  need  not  fear 
but  ministering  angels  Mill  be  found  in  every  clime,  who, 
under  the  influence  of  truth,  will  wipe  away  tears,  assuage 
pain,  and  hand  the  cup  of  consolation  to  the  broken-heart- 
ed.    I  remain  your  humbe  servant  in  esteem, 

SALLY  BURROUGHS. 

To  the  Rev.  EDEN  BURROUGHS. 

Charlton^  June  I6thj   1794. 
Dear  BnofHER^ 

I  received  a  letter  from  Sally,  by  a  messenger  from 
Long-Island,  dated  the  9th  inst.  by  which  I  understood  that 
the  difficukies  prevailing  at  the  time  of  our  being  there 
had  increased  to  such  a  degree  as  to  destroy  the,  prospect 
of  your  son's  supporting  his  family  in  that  place,  and  ac- 
cordingly he  leit  there  about  one  month  since,  for  Georgia, 
and  does  not  expect  to  return  to  live  on  the  island  auy 
more.  He  had  to  leave  his  family  destitute  ot  money  or 
provision,  and  his  wife  near  being  confined  in  chiid-bed  ill- 
ness. She  was  under  the  necessity  of  applying  to  the  over- 
seers of  the  poor  for  relief  She  is  desirous  of  returning 
from  the  island,  as  she  is  uncertain  when  her  husband  will 
be  able  to  assist  her,  or  move  her  away.  I  shall  go  next 
week  to  fetch  her  and  children  to  Charlton.     I  thought  it 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  i25 

probable  you  might  wish  to  have  one  of  the  Uule  boys  live 
%vith  you ;  for  should  your  son  ever  get  into  such  circu di- 
stances to  the  southward  as  to  send  for  his  wife,  I  think  it 
would  be  imprudent  to  move  the  children  into  that  un- 
healthy climate.  I  wish  you  would  write  to  me  on  the  sub- 
ject.    I  remain  your  affectionate  brother, 

EBENEZER  DAVIS. 

To  Mr.  STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

Bridghampton^  June  9th,   1794. 
Dear  Sii?y 

You  will  undoubtedly  wish  to  know  my  situation  by  the 
first  opportunity,  and  therefore  I  shall  not  neglect  this,  al- 
though it  may  be,  you  may  never  receive  this  letter,  for  I 
do  not  altogether  depend  on  the  certainty  of  its  conveyance. 
Our  youngest  child,  which  is  a  daughter,  was  born  on  the 
4th  of  May,  and  is  well ;  the  rest  of  the  family  in  usual 
health,  myself  excepted,  being  something  out  of  health 
through  a  state  of  debility.  I  have  heard  nothing  from 
our  relations  in  Charlton  since  you  left  me.  I  made  ap- 
plication to  Esq.  Rogers,  the  overseer  of  the  poor,  and  he 
contributed  to  my  relief,  but  soon  the  two  engines  of  cru- 
elty, Hurlbut  and  Pierson,  commenced  their  attacks  upon 
Mr.  EliasHalscy,  and  have  demanded  security  of  him  for 
all  the  costs  arising  from  my  maintenance,  together  with 
that  of  the  children,  on  account  of  his  being  the  first  who 
rented  us  a  house  without  giving  due  notice  to  the  over- 
seers of  the  poor.  Mr.  Halscy  is  totally  ignorant  what 
measures  to  take  in  this  busines3,  and  the  two  justices  say 
that  they  will  positively  have  him  carried  to  jail  to-mor- 
row if  he  don't  comply  with  their  demand.  The  buiiinesi; 
has  come  to  that  crisis  that  I  see  no  other  way  but  to  re- 
turn to  my  friends  at  Cliarlton,  for  nothing  v/ill  answer 
the  demands  of  the  two  justices  against  Mr  Ha'sey  but 
my  removal.  It  is  like  death  to  me  to  be  under  the  ne- 
cessity of  returning  and  to  be  treated  as  I  shall  by  my  re- 
lations. I  had  rather  work  like  a  slave  for  my  own  and 
children's  support,  therefore  I  beg  you  would  make  the 
time  as  short  as  possible  before  you   come  or  send  aftei- 

VOL.  II.  M 


'26  MEMOIRS  or 

rxTc,  and  not  think  of  revenging  the  injuries  you  have  suf- 
cred.  by  that  wlich  will  bring  the  calamity  on  me  and  the 
.  hildrcn.  My  blood  runs  cold  to  think  what  I  yet  have 
£;;otto  pass  through  !  I  cannot  rest,  by  night  or  day  ;  my 
trouble  almost  bereaves  mc  of  my  senses.  My  little  boys 
oth  stand  by  and  ask  v.hat  mamma  cries  so  much  for, 
.nd  wish  daddy  would  come  home.  Poor  children,  they 
liitle  know  the  afflictions  of  their  parents.  I  beg  of  you 
])0t  to  wait  for  a  state  of  affluence  before  you  send  for  me, 
A  state  of  poverty  is  much  more  tolerable,  than  living 
^Tithout  where  I  am  going.  Make  i:  your  own  case,  my 
dear,  and  often  read  this  that  you  may  not  forget,  for  one 
day,  that  you  have  a  wife  and  children,  who  lovg  to  see  you 
?nd  live  with  you.  My  head  is  in  such  confusion  that  I 
hardly  know  what  I  VyTite,  but  let  me  once  more  remind 
you  to  make  the  time  as  short  as  possible  before  you  pro- 
vide me  with  a  home,  where  we  may  both  live  together. 
Let  me  entreat  you  by  the  ties  of  love  and  friendship,  by 
the  tender  feelings  of  a  parent,  to  shorten  our  affliction  as 
much  as  possible. 

I  feel  great  anxiety  on  account  of  your  health.  The 
climate  to  which  you  have  bent  your  course  is  so  unsaluta- 
ry,  and  your  constitution  so  broken  and  worn  down  with 
sickness  and  misfortune,  that  I  tremble  for  the  event. 

2^d.  Since  I  wrote  the  above  I  have  heard  from  my 
father.  He  is  coming  to  move  me  back  to  Charlton.  On 
"Wednesday  next  he  will  be  here.  What  a  meeting  shall 
^ve  have  !  God  only  knows  my  feelings  on  this  occasion.  I 
wish  you  would  not  delay  one  moment  to  write  after  you 
have  received  this.  I  should  rest  much  easier,  could  I 
licar  from  you  but  one  word.  I  scarce  know  how  to  end 
my  letter.  There  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  melancholy  plea- 
sure in  writing  to  you,  although  it  is  uncertain  whether 
you  ever  receive  the  letter.  I  am  much  more  out  of  health 
than  when  I  began  the  letter.  A  universal  debility,  ac- 
companied with  night  sweats,  attends  me  constantly.  The 
rest  of  the  family  are  Y.ell,  the  infant  excepted,  which  is 
extremely  restless  and  unquiet.  I  remain,  dear  sir,  your 
lovins:  and  affectionate  wife, 

SALLY  BURROUGHS. 


STEPHEN  BtfRROUGIIS.  :-: 

To  the  Rev.  EDEN  BURROUGHS. 

Sejit.  ^ith,  1794. 
Honored  jyo  dzar  SiRy 

I  have  made  a  number  of  iritis  to  commimicate  letters 
to  you,  but  not  receivinjj  any  answer,  I  presume  they  have 
f.alexl.  This  day  being  in  the  post-office  and  looking-  over 
the  books,  I  there  saw  Hanover  made  a  post  town,  there- 
fore am  writing  this  letter  to  ledge  in  the  oirice  in  this 
pi  ice,  expecting  it  will  go  to  you  immediately. 

liov/  my  leaving  the  state  of  New-York  for  Georgi.i 
appears  to  ycur  view,  I  cannot  even  conjecture  ;  but 
when  you  come  to  be  informed  that  the  cruel  persecution, 
v.  liich  I  suffered  when  you  was  in  that  state,  increased  to 
such  a  degree  as  to  ruin  my  circuitistances  and  reduce  me 
to  poverty  ;  under  this  situation  you  will  not  wonder  at 
my  wishing  for  a  peaceable  retreat  from  such  a  btorm, 
that  I  might  provide  for  my  family  a  comfoi  table  subsis- 
tence. 

During  my  jonmey  to  this  country,  I  met  with  a  varie- 
ty of  incidents  as  is  usual  forme,  und  some  of  them  of  a 
peculiar  nature  ;  yet  they  are  now  past  and  gone,  and  on- 
ly leave  an  impression  on  my  mind  f^int  as  the  dreams  of 
the  night.  My  present  situation  is  easy  and  agreeable, 
one  rircumtitance  excepted,  viz.  the  separation  from  my 
family.  I  have  heard  nothing  from  them  since  I  lell 
Lcng-Island.  I  shudder  with  horror  to  think  of  thcii* 
situation.  I  beg  you  to  afford  thenl  wha^  assistance  you 
can,  until  I  can  obtain  a  situation  to  grant  tixcm  relief  my- 
f.tif.  wliich  I  hope  will  not  be  long. 

Huntington  is  gone  1  foretergone  !  Ke  died  in  Charles- 
ion,  Scuth-Coroiina,  of  a  putrid  fever.  I  was  informed 
that  he  resigricd  himself  to  his  approaching  fute,  ofwhicii 
he  was  sensible  sometime  before  his  dissolution,  w'ldx 
fortitude  and  calmness.  *•  Death  lets  down  the  curtain, 
and  the  piay  is  ended." 

I  saw  Mr.   Niles  in   Philadelpliia,   the   particuh\rs  of 
which  he  has  undoubtedly  stated  to  you,  lonj;  before  this, 
I  remain  with  sentiments  of  duty,  your  affecdona^e  son 
STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.' 


-■:'  MEMOIRS  OF 

To  Mr.  STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

Nar.ox'cr,  ( ?J'eii- Hampshire^)  Dec.  31,  1794. 

A  few  days  ago  I  received  yours,  bearin,^  date  on  the 
iI8th  September,  which  is  the  only  letter  that  has  come 
to  hand  &ince  your  departure  from  the  northern  states. 

The  care  of  your  family  being  undoubtedly  the  object 
:;:'-it  is  uppermost  in  your  mind,  I  will  intonn  you  what  I 

:  ov.'  concerning  them,  without  holding  you  in  suGpense 
J-  saying  any  more  previous  to  such  information.  Your 
/dest  son  is  at  irty  hou^e,  and   has   resided   with   me  for 

Lout  three  months.  He  has  the  privilege  of  a  school, 
•.  iiich  he  ccniitantiy  attends.     He  appears  to  make  good 

rolitifRcy  in  learning.     I  find  him  lo  b«  a  pleasant  and 
omising  child,  and  should  be  highly  pleased  at  keepin?.; 

::m  with  me  unill  he  ariivestoa  state  of  m:.nhood,  I'i  such 
.   ihing  might  comport  with  your  pleasure. 

Your  spouse  now  resides  vriih  her  family  in  Charlton. 
Her  father,  upon  hearing  of  her  straitened  circumstances 
on  the  island,  went  and  moved  her,  and  made  comfortable 
provision  for  aer  near  by.  The  last  news  from  thence 
V  as,  that  she  and  family  were  well. 

It  has  ever  been  a  matter  of  speculation  and  surprise  to 
'.5,  that  Divine  Providence  has  opened  such  a  door  among 
-:'.rangers,  and  in  such  a  distant  part,  for  your  being  useful 

)  mankind  ?.nd  of  advantage  to  yourself  The  voice  con- 
L.ined  in  such  a  providence  is,  in  my  view,  like  the  inter- 

cssicn  which  the  dresser  of  the  vineyard  made  in  behalf 
ot  the  barren  fig-tree,  "  Lord,  let  it  alone  this  year,  till  I 
shall  dig  about  it  &nd  dung  it."'' 

The  bov.cls  of  a  father,  and  the  piercing  affections  of  a 
mother  do  yet  constrain  us  to  entreat  you  to  keep  this  ever 
in  view,  that  after  all  the  trouble  and  anguish  which  you 
have  undergone,  and  which  v.e  have  suffered  on  your  ac- 
count, we  may  in  the  decline  of  our  days  be  comforted 
with  the  tidings,  that  you  have  learned  wisdom  and  obedi- 
ence to  the  calls  of  your  Divine  Master,  who  commands 
vou  to  give  up  all  for  his  sake.  It  is  our  heart's  desire 
and  prayer  to  God,  that  in  the  whole  of  your  pursuits  you 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  i:v 

vUiily  remember  that  one  thing  is  needful,  and  that  this  is 
life  eternal  to  know  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ 
>yhom  he  has  sent. 

I  forgot  to  mention  in  its  proper  pkice,  that  in  due  tim.c 
after  you  left  Lone:-Island,  a  daughter  was  born  unto  you, 
"Nvhois  ^rell.  Upon  your  informing  that  you  saw  Mr. 
Niles  in  Philadelphia,  I  felt  surprised  he  had  not  men- 
tioned it  to  me  at  Commencement,  which  is  the  only  time 
I  have  had  an  interview  with  him  in  the  interval  of  his  be- 
ing absent  from  Congress.  In  your  letters  from  Georgia, 
it  will  be  acceptable  to  have  you  pay  particular  attention 
to  an  account  of  every  thing  noticeable  in  the  country,  as 
soil,  climate,  productions,  and  especially  the  manners  of 
the  people,  and  whether  there  be  any  thing  that  looks  like 
religion  among  them.  It  wouldlikewise  be  highly  grati- 
fying to  have  an  account  of  your  own  sentiments  upon  the 
subject  of  religion.  I  am  sensible  you  have  been  under 
a  temptation  to  conclude  that  there  is  nothing  in  religion, 
from  the  treatment  you  have  received  fi-oni  its  profcssoi's. 
You  know  it  has  been  my  established  sentiment  for  these 
nfiany  years,  that  we  ought  not  to  form- an  estimate  of  re- 
ligion from  its  professors.  Let  them  dishonor  this  glori- 
ous cause  ever  so  much,  they  cannot  diminish  the  impor- 
tance of  it.  We  shall  one  day  stand  convicted,  that  if  a 
man  should  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul,  it 
would  profit  him  nothing.  We  shall  wait  with  much 
longing  desire  till  we  receive  another  letter  from  you  ; 
mean  while  we  rest  your  affectionate  parents, 

E.  &c  A.  BURROUGHS. 


To  the  Rev.  EDEN  BURROUGHS. 

Jugusta^  Feb.  24fkj  1795. 
Honored  and  dear  Paren^s^ 

Yours  of  the  31st  December  came  safe  to  hand  yester- 
day, and  with  the  most  heartfelt  satisfaction  I  obtained  in- 
formation for  the  first  time,  from  my  unfortunate  family. 
The  hiird  h:\nd  of  misfortune  has  compelled  mc  to  niiss 
m2 


130  MEMOIRS  OF 

through  difficulties  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  man  ; 
yet  ciinoni^  all  i-ny  misfortunes,  none  so  intolerable  as  the 
separation  from  my  family,  and  more  especiuily  my  sep- 
aration at  such  a  juncture.  God  of  nature,  what  a  pros- 
pect 1 

When  I  heard  they  were  comfortable,  and  settled  in  an 
agreeable  situation  by  Mrs.  Burrough's  father,  the  weight 
of  a  mountain  was  removed  from  my  mind,  and  I  felt  an 
ardor  of  gratitude  to  my  f.\ther-in-law  beyond  description, 
v.ndif  I  had  the  riches  of  India,  I  would  have  poured  them 
into  his  p-osocssion.  !  have  left  the  academy  in  Wash- 
ington, and  am  bound  to  a  town  called  P'redcrica,  on  the 
inland  of  St.  Sim.oes,  to  do  business  for  a  company  of  mer- 
chants In  Philadelphia.  The  prospect  in  this  line  is  more 
fiattcrhig,  as  it  offers  a  more  immediate  establishment  for 
my  family. 

In  obedience  to  your  desire,  I  should  write  the  pwrticu- 
l?.r5  relating  to  things  worthy  of  notice  in  this  country, 
but  as  I  have  kept  a  journal  of  all  the  particulars  of  my 
travels,  incorpoi-ated  with  remarks  upon  every  subject 
worthy  of  notice,  which  came  under  my  view,  I  have  de- 
termined to  send  you  the  journal  as  soon  as  an  opportunity 
for  a  conveyance  offers.  This  will  give  a  more  extensive 
view  of  the  subject  than  is  possible  to  do  by  letter. 

The  religion  of  Georgia  consists  in  every  man's  doing 
that  which  is  right  in  his  own  eyes.  Dissipation  and  li- 
rtnticusness  reign  here  triumphant.  This  is  the  worst 
side  of  the  character  of  the  Georgians.  They  are  hospita- 
ble, humane  and  courteous  in  the  extreme.  As  to  my 
own  sentiments  of  religion,  you  may  find  them  comprised 
in  the  following  line  from  Pope  :  "  An  honest  man's  the 
noblest  work  of  God ;"  and  this  honesty  consists  in  follow- 
ing the  law  cf  our  own  mhid,  without  depending  on  the 
dogmas  of  others.  I  remiain,  with  sentiments  of  filial  af- 
fection, vour  dutiful  son, 

S.  BURROUGHS 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  131 

To  the  Rev.  EDEN  BURROUGHS. 

Fhiladel^ihia,  May  2  3  cf,  1795  = 
Honored  and  dear  FAREsrs, 

I  have  been  in  this  city  for  the  space  of  six  weeks.  I 
have  not  written  to  you,  owing  to  the  daily  uncertainty  of 
the  time  when  I  should  leave  here.  It  is  now  determined 
thiit  I  shall  spend  the  summer  in  this  place  ;  I  therefore 
hasten  to  give  you  what  information  relating  to  my  pros- 
pects and  present  situation  is  in  my  power  to  communi- 
cate. I  shall  leave  here  early  in  the  fall  for  the  province 
of  Louisiana.  If  possible  I  shall  make  a  visit  to  my  fami- 
ly before  my  departure  ;  however,  it  is  yet  problematical 
Vy-hether  I  shall  be  able  to  effect  sach  a  desirable  object. 

I  wish  that  all  the  information  relating  to  my  family, 
you  would  communicate  to  me  in  the  minutest  manner. 
I  have  not  as  yet  received  any  mteiligence  from  them,  ex- 
cepting what  is  conveyed  in  your  letters.  I  anxiously 
wish  to  see  my  little  boy  now  with  you,  but  God  only 
knows  whether  I  shall  ever  be  gratified.  You  may  think 
my  foolish  fondness  on  this  subject^  betokens  the  exercise 
of  little  manly  reason ;  however,  I  console  myself  under 
the  indulgence  of  such  feelings,  with  the  instance  of  like 
conduct  in  no  less  a  man  than  Agesilaus,  king  of  Sparta  ; 
being  caught  one  day  riding  a  reed  with  his"  children,  he 
desired  the  man  to  say  nothing  on  the  subject  until  he 
liad  become  the  father  of  children  himself. 

For  one  moment  turn  your  attention  to  my  present  sit- 
uation. But  little  more  than  a  year  since,  I  was  in  this 
city  on  ray  route  to  Georgia,  and  under  such  circumstan- 
ces as  to  give  the  most  exquisite  pain  at  taking  them  into 
consideration  at  this  tim.e.  I  have  since  been  at  the  head 
of  an  academy  in  Georgia  with  some  reputation.  I  left  it 
to  the  regret  of  parents  and  students.  I  then  entered  in- 
to business  for  a  company  of  merchants.  This  business  I 
performed  to  their  satisfaction,  which  finally  brought  me 
to  this  city.  A  new  train  of  events  succeeding,  I  am  de- 
tained here  through  the  summer,  and  my  course  turned 
to  Louisiana.  What  a  scene  of  fluctuation.  IVIy  life  is, 
and  has  been,  uniformly  irregular.     All  these  things  have 


152  MEMOIRS  OF 

taken  place  by  unforeseen  events,  which  no   human  pru- 
dence could  prevent. 

No  man  longs  more  passionately  for  domestic  ease  and 
retirement  from  the  bustle  of  the  world,  and  no  man  at  pres- 
ent appears  to  be  a  greater  remove  from  it ;  for  so  long  as 
I  hftve  a  family  unprovided  for,  I  must  encounter  such  ob- 
jects as  offer  a  prospect  for  such  a  purpose,  and  if  I  at  last 
prove  unsuceessful,  I  shall  have  this  consolation,  that  I 
have  done  all  in  my  power. 

My  residence  in  Louisiana  probably  will  continue  a 
number  of  years.  My  first  stage  will  be  New-Orleans; 
from  thence  I  shall  endeavor  to  open  a  channel  of  com- 
munication. With  the  most  unfeigned  desire  for  your 
felicity,  I  remain  your  dutiful  son, 

STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 


To  Mr.  STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 

Hayiover^  K.  H.June  \Wi^  1795. 
Dear  Child^ 

Yours  of  the  23d  of  May  is  just  come  to  hand  ;  and 
though  an  acceptable  present,  it  fills  us  with  concern  in 
relation  to  your  future  welfare  in  life,  while  it  constrains 
us  to  view  you  as  a  ship  tossed  on  the  ocean,  with  an  un- 
certainty where  it  will  reach  the  land,  or  whether  it  will 
ever  arrive  on  shore,  without  being  dashed  by  the  sur- 
rounding billovys,  or  wrecked  on  the  quicksands.  ^  But 
amidst  the  pain  of  our  anxiety  for  you,  we  are  sensible  it 
ever  becomes  us  to  leave  you  to  the  guidance  of  the  prov- 
idence of  that  God,  whose  kingdom  rules  over  all. -x.  If 
vour  trust  is  in  him,  and  your  heart  is  truly  waiting  on 
him,  you  will  surely  find  in  the  issue,  that  his  name  is  a 
strong  tower.*'^^ 

In  relation  to  your  family,  I  believe  you  have  reason  to 
make  yourself  perfectly  easy  and  quiet  respecting  their 
situation.  So  far  as  I  can  learn,  their  circumstances  are 
as  easy  as  may  be  expected.  We  received  a  letter  from 
your  spouse  about  one  month  since,  intimating  comforta- 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  133 

We  tidings  in  relation  to  the   Jicalth  and  situation  of  the 
family. 

Your  little  son  appears  to  be  of  an  uncommonly  spright- 
ly mind,  and  makes  good  progress  in  learning.  It  would, 
beyond  all  doubt,  be  exceedingly  gratifying  to  your  fi\mily 
to  receive  a  visit  from  you  this  summer ;  it  would  be  pe- 
culiarly so  to  us.  But  at  the  same  time  we  cannot  refrain 
to  remind  you,  that  your  judgment  and  not  your  affections 
ought  to  govern  you  in  this  respect.  We  ever  wish  you 
to  conduct  not  only  with  that  integrity,  but  also  with  that 
discretion,  economy  and  prudence,  as  to  render  yourself 
v.'ortlry-  of  the  confidence  of  any  gentlemen  who  may  have 
occasion  to  commit  any  part  of  their  concerns  to  your  trust 
:.nd  management.  -^^ 

You  v.iii  be  mindful  to  iniprove  opportunities  to  write 
to  us  during  your  continuance  in  Philadelphia.  It  will 
perhapy  be  the  only  channel  through  which  your  family 
can  gain  information  from  you.  When  you  shall  remove 
into  the  Spanish  dominions^  the  greater  distance  will  but 
increase  our  desires  to  receive  as  frequent  information 
from  you  as  you  can  attend  to  communicate.  Remember 
that  0/2!?  thing  is  needful;  and  receive  this  as  a  signal  of 
parental  regard  from  your  affectionate  parents, 

E.  and  A.  BURROUGHS. 


^ 


To  the  Rev.  EDEN  BURROUGHS. 

Pkiladeljihia^  June  23d,  1795. 
Honored  and  dear  Parent's, 

Yours  of  the  12ih  was  handed  to  me  this  morning,  hav- 
ing been  in  the  city  some  days,  owing  to  a  mistake  of  its 
having  tallen  into  the  hands  of  one  ol  the  same  name  living 
in  this  city.  My  situation  remains  yet  permanent,  and 
will  pmbably  so  continue  until  October,  when  I  shall  again 
be  on  the  wing  of  fluctuation.  Some  things  of  a  public 
nature  have  transpired,  which,  if  founded  in  fact,  will  h'..ve 
an  influence  upon  my  future  prospects,  viz.  Spain,  it  is 
said,  has  entered  into  a  treaty  with  Erance,  by  which  they 


234  MEMOIRS  OF 

have  ceded  the  province  of  Louisiana  to  the  French.  This 
information  I  had  from  Mr.  Adet,  the  new  French  ambas- 
sador. M.  La  Count,  another  diplomatic  character,  de- 
clared that  the  Mississippi  would  be  laid  open  to  the  A- 
mericans  without  restrictions.  Should  this  be  the  case,  a 
great  change  in  the  situation  which  I  shall  there  occupy 
^vill  necessarily  follow,  and  the  danger  to  which  I  should 
have  been  subject,  in  a  measure  be  removed. 

The  shafts  of  malignity  are  hurled  at  me  with  some  de- 
gree of  rancour,  by  some  of  my  northern /r/tno?.?,  who  are 
in  this  city ;  yet  they  have  hitherto  apperaxd  to  prove 
harmless.  How  they  may  operate,  is  yet  in  the  womb  of 
futurity. 

Your  letter  hris  produced  such  an  effect  upon  my  ner- 
vous system,  thut  I  can  hardly  guide  a  pen,  so  strange  is 
the  eflecton  my  feelings;  and  this  weakness  I  nnd  daily 
increasing.  I  ever  fell  a  sacrifice  to  too  great  a  degree  oi 
sensibility.  To  hear  my  family  w^ere  comfortable  ;  that 
my  little  Edward  was  doing  well  ;  to  reflect,  at  the  same 
time,  upon  my  own  siui.aicn,  absent  from  rny  family  and 
dearest  connexions,  traversing  the  immeasureable  wilds 
of  my  destiny,  produced  a  confused  chaos  of  pleasure,  in- 
termixed with  the  keenest  pain,  and  a  something  more, 
that  is  indescribable.  Pray  excuse  my  incoherent  method 
of  writing.  You  will  undoubtedly  ask  vrhy  I  write  at  this 
moment  ?  the  only  answer  I  have  is,  that  I  am  more  un- 
happy in  any  other  situation  ;  it  serves  to  Ccdm  the  boiling 
passions  of  a  turnultuated  mind.  I  hear  my  sister  is  keep- 
ing a  school;  may  she  never  feel  those  deahlike  stings  of 
remorse,  arising  from  the  treatment  of  an  ungrateful 
v.orld,  for  whom  she  has  spent  her  lime  i.nd  strength,  as 
has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  her  unhappy  brother. 

1  he  probability  is,  that  Congress  will  be  sooner  call^U 
together,  than  the  time  of  their  adjournment,  owing^^laN^a" 
treaty  between  this  country  and  Grec:t  Britain.  Should 
such  an  event  take  place,  I  shall  undoubtedly  see  Mr. 
Niles,  by  whom  I  will  transmit  a  more  particular  detail  of 
my  prospects,  Sec.  by  going  into  the  Spanish  dominions. 

That  our  times  and  changes  are  fixed  and  unalterable 
by  the  everlasting  laws  of  n&turc,  is  what  I  most  firmly  be-. 


STEPHEN  BURROUGHS.  135 

liere  ;  and  therefore  to  remain  quiet  under  whatever  sit- 
uation we  may  find  ourselves,  is  a  duty  no  less  apparent. 
To  moralize  thus  is  easy,  but  to  reduce  it  to  practice,  is 
truly  difficult,  when  I  find  the  storm  of  adversity  bursting 
with  impending  ruin  over  my  head.— -••^ 

Whether  in  prosperity  or  adversity,  your  welfare  lies 
near  my  heart,  even  next  to  that  of  my  own  family.  Be- 
fore I  was  married,  adversity  was  supportable  ;  but  to  fill 
the  cup  of  misery  to  the  brim,  that  I  might  drain  it  to  the 
dregs,  I  was  destined  to  be  connected  to  a  woman  worthy 
of  every  blessing,  and  calculated  to  render  me  entirely 
happy  ;  then  to  be  torn  from  her  under  the  most  horrid 
circumstances  of  complicated  misery;  to  leave  her,  to- 
gether with  my  darling  infants,  unprotected  in  a  savage 
world  ! ! !     Adieu. 

S.  BURROUGHS. 


To  JOHN  GRIFFIN,  Esq.  Washington,  Georgia. 

Hanover^  May  20rA,  1797. 
Dear  Sir,  ^ 

I  snatch  a  hasty  moment  to  communicate  this  one  par- 
ticular, viz.  that  after  tumbling  and  tumbling,  I  have  tum- 
bled at  last  into  the  bosom  of  my  family.  I  now  behold 
around  my  fireside,  my  wife  and  children,  paientsand  sis- 
ters, with  pleasure  pictured  on  every  countenoace.  This 
is  a  scene  at  which  I  tremble  when  I  view  it,  lest  ficlj.le 
fortune  should  chance  to  hear  m.y  exultation;  from  writ- 
ing long  on  this  subject,  and  again  dash  the  cup  of  pleas- 
ure, with  wormwood  and  gali.  I  close,  wishing  you  ev- 
ery degnse  of  happiness. 

STEPHEN  BURROUGHS. 


P.  S.  The  foregoing  memoirs  were  prepared  for  the 
press,  several  years  ago.  It  was  expected,  as  they  had 
lain  so  long  on  hand,  that  the  author  would  have  made 
some  additions,  before  the  work  was  published.     But  as 


136  MEMOIRS  OF,  See. 

none  have  been  received,  and  as  the  public  are  impatient 
to  see  the  book,  the  proprietor  of  the  manuscript  thinks  it 
ungenerous  to  keep  them  any  longer  in  suspense.  And 
as  the  reader  will  naturally  inquire,  "  Where  is  Bur- 
roughs now,  and  what  is  he  about  ?'*  it  may  be  proper  in 
this  place  to  answer  that  question.  Mr.  Burioughs  has 
been,  for  two  or  three  years  past,  managing  a  farm,  and 
certain  mills,  in  the  town  of  Stanstead,  near  the  lake  Mem- 
phremagog,  within  the  bounds  of  Lower  Canada.  The 
xnills,  &c.  belong  to  his  father-in-law,  a  respectable  gen- 
tleman of  Massachusetts.  And  it  is  believed  he  is  entire- 
ly satisfied  with  his  son-in-law's  conduct,  in  the  business. 
At  present,  Mr.  Burroughs  is  turning  his  attention  to  the 
study  of  physic. 

The  reader  is  also  informed,  that  the  letter  in  the   note, 
page  44,  was  written  by  Judge  Havens. 

Boston,  Jan.  1804. 


FINIS. 


S  E  Ig  U  E  ]L 

TO  THE 

MEMOIRS 

OF 

STEPHEN  BUtlROUGHS, 

yiEVER    BEFORE    PUBLISHED. 


[This  Fragnfent  of  the  preceding  Memoirs  was  not  received  by  tl)e 
publisher  in  time  to  be  introduced  in  its  proper  place.  It  comes 
in  betv.-een  the  4th  and  5th  line  from  the  bottom  of  fae  122d 
page  of  the  second  volume.] 


I  found  parents  and  children  equally  gratified  .at  the 
general  emulation  and  rapid  advances  which  were  made 
in  literature  by  the  nriembers  of  this  academy  ;  and  youth 
from  distant  parts  were  sent  to  this  instiiution,  as  offering 
the  fairest  prospect  of  education  of  any  in  the  southern 
states.  Thus  were  my  affairs  situated  at  the  expiration 
of  eight  months  from  the  lime  of  my  comm.encing  my 
school  in  this  town.  My  lime  ran  smoothly  on  ;  and,  had 
it' not  been  for  that  coroding  anxiety  which  constantly 
preyed  on  my  mind,  about  the  welfare  of  my  family,  I 
might  have  enjoyed  pleasure  here  without  interruption  ; 
but  that  single  circumstance  embitteredmy  days,  and  ren- 
dered  my  nights  sleepless  and  insupportable.  Ther^  ever 
has  been  a  weakness  in  my  resolution  and  mianly  fortitude, 
when  brought  into  collision  with  this  object,  which  has  ever 
failed  me.  I  could  not  compose  my  feelings  in  any  man- 
ner, so  as  to  make  them  tolerable,  when  the  misery  of  my 
family  was  the  subject  of  reflection.  Being  actuated  by^ 
these  impressions,  I  accepted  an  offer  which  exhibibcd 
flattering  hopes  of  realizing  more  speedily  a  sufficienc}- 


i38  SEQUEL. 

of  money  to  send  for  my  family  to  this  place.     The  land 
spccula'tion  (the  rage  of  the  day)  offered  to  my  imagina- 
tion the  animating  prospect  of  speedy  affluence.     I  there- 
fore engaged  in  it.     It  was  necessary,   in  order  to  carry 
this  purpose  into  effect,  in  the  first  place  to  submit  to  a 
Faeries  of  hardships  and  self  denial.    In  the  capacity  of  sur- 
veyor I  traversed  those  parts  of  Georgia  which  were  yet 
in  the  possession  of  the  natives.     My  business  carried  me 
through  the  different  nations  of  the  Creek,  the  Choctaw, 
and  the  Chickesaw  Indians.     When  arrived  among  them, 
I  was  astonished  to  find  the  state  of  improvement  to  which 
they  had  arrived,  particularly  the  Creek  Indians.     They 
dwelt  in  buildings  of  a  permanent  construction  j  they  cul- 
tivated extensive  fields  of  corn  and  rice  ;  they  understood 
:he  use  of- the  plough  equal  to  the  whites,  and  could  di'aw 
from  thi  extraordinary  luxuriancy   of  the   soil   stores  of 
provisions  capable  of  lasting  them  mai.y  years.     They  ex- 
ercised a  degree  of  urbanity,  hospitality  and  benevolence 
tov.'ards  all  strangers  who  visited  them,  which  ought  to 
iTiake  the  civilis^ed  part  of  mankind  blush  at  the  compari- 
son.    In  fcxt,  v/ere  it  not  for  the  name  of  civilized  people, 
for  the  prejudices  of  education,  and  for  the  generally  re- 
ceived opinion  of  Indian  barbarity,  I  should  have  believed 
that  the  native  savages  of  this  country  had,  by  some  means, 
found  the  real  state  of  civil  happiness,  and  were  not  desti- 
tute of  those  enjoyments  which  the  whites  were  willing, 
and  did  abundantly  boast,  were  in  their  own  exclusive  pos- 
session.    Here  the  weary  traveller  found  rest  and  refresh- 
ment; the  unfortunate  found  protection,   and  the   poor 
found  a  ready   and   willing  supply  for  his  wants.     From 
this   circumstance,   many   blacks  fled  from  their  slavery 
among  the  v/hites,  and  found^  secure  aeflum  among  the 
Indians.     This,  together  with  many  other  circumstances, 
caused  the  white  people  of  the  state  of  Georgia  to  make 
encroachments,  and  conimit  depredations   upon  the  In- 
dians of  their  neighborhood.     These  were  revenged  by 
the  death  of  the  whites,  without  discrimination.     From 
circumstances  like  these,  the  relative  situation  of  the  two 
countries  towards  each  other  was  very  unhappy.     Much 
danger  attended  an  intercourse  witlitbem  at  that  moment. 


SEQUEL. 


139 


Yet,  for  the  sake  of  acquirini^  wealth  with  certainty  and 
dispatch,  I  ventured  on  the  hazardous  task,  and  finally 
proved  successful,  even  bcjond  my  most  sanguine  expec- 
tations. I  found  the  Indians  extremely  jealous  of  my  de- 
signs when  I  first  came  among  them,  and  had  actually 
concluded,  in  a  council  of  the  nation,  to  put  me  to  death,. 
under  a  full  belief  of  my  coming  among  them  as  a  spy,  in 
order  to  explore  their  country,  and  be  in  a  situation  to  lead 
the  white  people  among  them  to  destroy  their  nation. 
However,  this  information  I  did  not  obtain  until  all  the 
danger  was  over.  Their  jealousy  was  soon  allayed,  arid 
from  suspicion  they  proceeded  to  the  contrary  extreme  of 
friendship.  They  rendered  me  every  assistance  in  com- 
pleting my  survey,  and  in  forwarding  all  my  designs  ; .  so 
that,  to  the  astonishment  and  gratification  of  my  friends,  I 
returned  much  sooner,  and  effected  my  survey  much 
more  accurately,  than  was  at  first  expected. 

This  land  business  was  intimately  connected  with  con- 
cerns in  which  Robert  Morris,  Esq.  of  Philadelphia,  was 
particularly  interested  ;  and,  as  the  whole  proceeds  of  the 
survey  were  to  go  to  him  before  I  could  receive  my  part, 
it  was  ai^reed  by  his  agent  in  Georgia  that  I  should  have 
an  establishment  on  the  island  of  St.  Simons,  at  the  mouth 
of  the  river  Altomaha,  where  Morris  owr/d  a  very  exten- 
sive property,  and  was  calculating  to  estaolish  business  to 
a  great  amount.  To  this  place  therefore  I  bent  my  coiiryc , 
and  reached  it  without  delay.  Here  I  viewed' my  unsti  - 
ble  and  fluctuating  situation  coming  to  an  end.  The  island 
on  which  I  was  to  take  up  my  pernic.nent  residence  wi^s 
pleasant  in  the  extreme.  My  business  here  was  to  be  lu- 
crative and  permanent.  I  had  already  acquired  a  proper- 
ty which  would  be  abundantly  sufficient  to  defray  the  ex- 
penses of  removing  my  family  to  this  country,  and  support, 
them  with  a  decent  competency  afterv/ards.  Having 
made  arrangements  for  their  rcmovd,  I  set  about  prepar- 
ing accommodations  for  their  reception,  by  procuring  ma- 
terials and  employing  workmen  to  repair  and  fit  up  an  ele- 
gant large  brick  building  for  their  abode,  making  every  ex- 
ertion to  forward  the  business,  being  animated  with  tie 
grateyful  expectation  of  seeing  myself  scon  provided  wiih 


^^0  •  ^  SEQUEL. 

a  situation  fo  -which  I  could  transport  my  family,  and  make 
them  happy. 

Such  was  my  situation  on  the  island  of  St.  Simons  when 
I  received  directlcns  from  Mr.  IMorris  to  repair  immedi- 
ately to  Philadelphia,  and  bring  the  books  with  me  which 
related  to  the  concern  of  the  business  there.  I  immedi- 
atejy  obeyed  this  summons,  made  ready  the  full  descrip- 
tion of  the  business  in  this  place,  and  hastened  to  Phila- 
delphia. When  I  arrived  there,  "^  found  Mr.  Morris, 
Gen.  Nicholson  and  Mr.  Swanwick  were  closing  a  con- 
cern wiiich  had  existed  for  some  time  betv»'een  them,  and 
VAv  attendance  with  the  books  was  necessary  for  this  ar- 
rangement. The  parties  concerned  were  much  pleaded 
v.ith  my  attention  to  their  business  whilst  I  was  at  St.  Si- 
mons, and  the  accuracy  with  which  I  had  exhibited  my 
accounts  of  the  concern,  considering  the  short  time  I  had 
to  effect  the  business.  -.This  circumstance  opened  a  new 
field. for  my  enterprize,  by  an  offer  I  had  from  these  gen- 
tlemen of  undertakulg  a  voyage  into  the  western  world,  in 
order  to  establish  an  extensive  fur  trade  with  the  different 
tribes  of  Ir»dians.  Very"  extensire  views  Avere  entertain- 
.  d  of  estnbiishing  a  trade,  by. a  mercantile  company,  which 
•hculd  command  the  attention  of  the  different  tribes  of 
Indians  to  the  Gulph  of  Caiaphornia.  ^To  superintend 
ihis  establishmVnt,  and  to  carry  it  into  effect,  was  a  station 
w  Iiich  I  was  to  occupy,  with  the  prospect  of  very  flatter- 
ing emoli^ments.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  undertook 
this  difficult,  hazardous  and  tedious  business. 

For  a  term  of  live  years  I  must  novv'  be  absent,  travers- 
ing imir.easurable  wilds  and  barbarous  nations  of  savages, 
exposed  to  the  vicissitudes  of  different  climes,  different 
naiicas,  and  different  resources  for  the  prima.ry  aliments 
of  life,  shut  out  from  almost  any  chance  to  hear  from  my 
family  and  friends  during  that  time.  I  declare, to  you, 
Sir,  these  consideraiions  many  times  cast  a  gloom  of  des- 
pondency on  the  prospect  before  me.  It  is  true  I  had 
made  arrungements  to  furnish  my  family  with  money  to 
Linswer  all  their  nece^ilies  during  my  absence.  Indeed 
Mr.  Morris  was  so  much  engaged  in  having  me  undertake 
'his  business,  thut  he  very  generously  offered  to  provide 


SEQUEL.  1 

Ibf  my  family  gratuitously  during  my  absence,  by  renr 
ing  them  to  Philadelphia,  and  providing  them  \rith  all  tue 
necessaries  and  comforts  of  life. 

^  have  no  doubt  but  you  will  be  astonished  at  this  cal- 
culation of  mine.  I  declare  to  you,  Sir,  when  I  look  b.^ck 
and  vicAv  the  circumstance  myself,.  I  do  not  do  it  without 
producing  a  degree  of  surprize  at  my  own  views  on  that 
subject.  After  I  had  obtained  a  competency  for  myself 
and  family,  by  acquiring  so  much  property  as  to  be  able 
to  afford  them  all  the  comforts  of  life  at  least,  if  not  the 
luxuries ;  after  experiencing  one  continued  series  of  the 
most  heartfelt  chagrin  in  consequence  of  my  separation 
from  them  ;  at  such  a  time  to  enter  voluntarily  into  a  con- 
tract to  exi'e  myself  from  them  for  the  term  of  five  years, 
at  the  least  calculation,  and  perhaps  forever,  is  almost  an 
enigma  in  nature,  and  j)erhaps  may  indicate  to  your  view 
a  species  of  mental  madness.  But,  Sir,  when  I  took  into 
consideration  that  I  might  raise  my  family,  by  this  voyage, 
to  such  a  degree  of  wealth  as  to  enable  them  to  enjoy  all 
the  splendor  which  attached  to  riches,  in  spite  of  every  ex- 
ertion of  my  enemies  for  their  destruction,  it  was  an  ob- 
ject so  fascinating  to  my  imagination  that  every  other  con- 
sideration fell  before  it.  Thus,  Sir,  is  the  liistory  of  tiie 
human  heart  exhibited  to  our  view. 

Yet  all  the  prospects  which  I  had  anticipated  finally 
failed.  Mr.  Morris,  by  a  concatenation  of  the  most  aston- 
ishing incidents,  became  embarrassed,  notwithstanding 
his  immense  property  and  unequalled  fiscal  abilities.  Be- 
ing at  the  head  of  the  concern  which  was  to  carry  my 
■western  expedition  into  effect,  his  failure  so  far  affected 
the  business,  that  it  was  laid  by  for  the  present  moment, 
and  I  placed  in  a  state  of  uncertainty  as  to  my  future  ope- 
rations. I  spent  the  summer  much  in  this  manner,  wait- 
ing the  turn  of  times,  to  determine  my  own  rout.  During 
this  time  I  opened  a  land-office  by  the  advice  of  the  gen- 
tlemen before  mentioned,  and  through  their  infitience,  and 
the  unwearied  exertions  which  I  made,  my  business  in- 
creased beyond  any. expectations  v/hich  I  ever  even  in- 
dulged a  hope  for  in  this  department.  I  negou^.ted  at  my 
N.2 


143  SEQUEL. 

ci?icc,  business  to  a  great  amount  for  the  principal  and 
iviost  respectable  merchants  in  that  city. 

liut  at  a  moment  in  which  I  thought  myself  establjshed 
l.ere  in  the  most  stable  manner,  and  rapidly  risini^  to%f- 
.luence,  my  Mattering  prospects  were  in  a  moment  blast- 
ed.    The  Honorable ,  from  the  state  of 

Ixlassachusctts,  became  acquainted  with  the  circumstance 
of  my  residence  and  business  in  this  city.  From  the  most 
benevokJit  motives  he  exiiibitcd  my  character  to  the  citi- 
zens of  Philadelphia  in  the  most  dismal  colors.  He  ex- 
erted himself  to  draw  a  picture  calculated  to  please  his 
own  fancy,  and  tiiis  picture  did  not  by  any  means  fall  short 
of  Milton's  fruitful  imaaination.in  painting  Satan. 

At  this  time  I  had  property  in  ray  of&ce  to  the  amount 

of  four  hundred  thousand  dollars.  A  week  had  not  elapsed 

eforC  it  was  all  taken  from  mc  by  the  owners,  and  I  was 

ft  a  solitary  spectator  of  the  depredations  made  by  the 

rue  I  tongue  of  slander.     I  was   diverted, '  however,   to 

iiCarthc  various  excuses  and  plausible  pretences  made  by 

the  owners  of  this  property  when  they  called  it  out  of  my 

yiossession  ;  yet  not  one  had  the  openness  to  give  me  an 

ccount  of  the  real  motives  which  actuated  his  conduct. 

Under  this  situation  I  formed  a  resolution  to  reHirn 
gain  to  the  island  of  St.  Simonf,  and  take  my  family  with 
me.  It  was  a  long  tin: e  sines  I  had  seen  them,  and  the 
"moment  I  found  it  possible  to  revisit  them,  my  heart  pal- 
r.'itated  with  an  ai'.xi^ty  totally  inexpressible.  I  collected 
ogetherall  the  money  I  Tas  master  of,  and  hired  it  to  Ivlr. 
Morris,  at  conmcn  interest,  taking  a  mortgage  upon  prop- 
erty in  Philadelphia  for  security,  constituting  a  lawyer  by 
the  name  of  Thomas,  my  agent,  to  act  for  me  in  this  busi- 
ness ;  receive  the  quarterly  interest  of  my  money,  and  re- 
mit it  to  me  whenever  I  mip^U  need  it.  I  found  myself 
nv->;v  in  possession  of  thirty  thousand  dollars,  besides  a  suf- 
ilciency  to  answer  my  travelling  expenses,  kc. 

You  \ri:T  nal«ru)ly  conclude,  that  with  some  degree  of 
eagerness  I  nov/  h^istened  my  return  to  my  family.  The 
nearer  I  approached,  the  Trore  ungovernable  was  my  im- 
patience to  overcome  the  di^^tance,  and  enjoy  once  more 
the  graleiui  scene  of  givir-;;,  them  every  u^surancs  of  be- 


SEQUEL.  -443  ■ 

ing  able  to  meet  their  wishes,  and  make  them  a  comfort- 
able provision  through  life.  I  had  preTiously  learnt  that 
they  had  left  the  inhospitable  shores  of  Long-Island,  and 
had  returned  to  Charltcn.  I  therefore  bent  my  course  to 
that  town  with  unabating  assiduity.  Here  I  must  close 
the  scene.  It  is  absolutely  beyond  the  pov/er  of  language 
to  describe  our  meeting,  so  as  to  give  you  the  faintest  re= 
semblance. 

When  I  had  leisure  to  state  all  my  circumstances,  pros- 
pects and  views  to  my  wife  and  friends,  particularly  to  my 
wife's  father,  I  found  they  had  a  decided  wish  that  I  sl^uld 
now  tarry  in  the  northorn,  and  relmquisli  eniirely  the  ijie^k 
of  removing  my  family  into  the  southern  states.  THcii- 
wishes  and  opinions  certainly  had  a  decided  in^encei  in 
forming  my  calculations.  I  had  every  reas^rfto^feelVhe 
strongest  sensations  of  graiitude  towards  my  wife's  father 
for  the  benevolent  attention  which  he  shewed  to  my  fami- 
ly during  the  whole  time  of  ni^-  absence  ;  and,  of  course, 
I  considerea  myself  under  great  obligations  to  gratify  his 
wif^hes  in  my  domestic  arrangements,  so  far  as  in  my 
power.  My  situation  was  such,  however,  as  to  render  it 
dangerous  to  abide  in  Massachusetts.  My  enemies  could 
take  advantage  of  my  peculiar  situation  in  consequence  of 
my  leaving  Vv^orcester  gaol  in  the  manner  I  "did ;  and  I 
always  found  virtuous  people  enough  in  this  state  to  pur- 
sue the  most  bitter  course  of  unrelendng  persecutions 
ngainst  me.     This  kind  o^-irago  virtue  had  pervaded  all 

lasses  and  denominations  among  them,  even  from  the 
ploughman  to  the  upright  judge,  to  the  governor  of  to 
the  senator  in  Congresl. 

Under  considerations  like  these,  I  determined  on  a  visit 
to  my  father,  in  Hanover,  in  the  state  of  New-Hampshire, 
to  see  what  prospects  raigUt  present  themselves  in  that 
part  of  the  world,  for  an  establishment.  When  I  came 
to  relate  to  him  the  whole  situation  of  my  affairs,  and  my 
intentions,  he  manifested  much  anxiety  that  I  should  now, 
after  so  many  vicissitudes  and  fluctuating  scenes  of  life, 
settle  down  with  him,  and  spend  the  rest  of  my  days  in 
superintending  and  managing  his  concerns,  inasmuch  as 
he  had  advanced  far  into  the  vale  of  life,  and  I  was  the  only 


14-f  SEQUEL.  ■■ 

son  he  had  to  perform  this  filial  office.  After  consuhin^ 
with  my  friends  in  Charlton,  I  finally  determined  to  com- 
ply with  the  united  importunity  and  wishes  of  my  parents. 
I  according  brought  my  family  to  Hano^'^er,  and  enjoyed, 
for  a  term  of  about  three  years,  a  degree  of  happiness  with 
them,  and  with  my  parents  and  their  friends,  beyond  de- 
scription. Fortune  appeared  for  a  time  willing  to  make 
me  amends  for  her  ungenerous  conduct,  and  the  fickle 
and  faithless  godess  promised  much  more  than  she  per- 
formed. She  now  held  out  to  my  fond  imagination,  the 
final  end  of  my  sufferings,  and  a  total  close  to  all  my  wan- 
dering and  fluctuating  circumstances. 

About  this  time  I  received  a  letter  from  my  agent  in 
Philadelphia,  informing  me  that  the  power  of  attorney  un- 
der which  he  acted  was  so  circumscribed  as  to  render  him 
unable  to  transact  my  business  to  my  advantage,  and  that 
it  was  necessary  to  execute  one  which  he  had  sent  me, 
and  forward  it  to  him  immediately  by  mail.  Hating  the 
most  absolute  confidence  in  the  integrity  of  my  agent,  I 
did  not  hesitate  one  moment  to  comply  with  his  desires, 
executed  the  power,  and  sent  it  on  forthwith.  However, 
this  was  a  fatal  stroke  to  my  fortune^  By  virtue  of  the 
power  he  sold  my  security  in  Philadelphiaj  realized  the 
money,  and  fled  to  France. 


APPENDIX. 


JLT  may  be  expected  that  something  further  should  be 
said  of  this  extraordinary  character,  who  has  been  the  he- 
ro of  the  preceding  Memoirs.  Little,  however,  can  be 
learned  of  his  history  in  this  part  of  the  country,  unless 
he  himself  should  take  it  into  his  head  to  publish  a  third 
volume,  for  which  undoubtedly  he  has  abundant  material's. 
Of  ftiis,  however,  there  is  not  iipuch  prospect  at  present. 

From^6metime  previous  to  the  date  of  his  last  letter, 
to  the  spring  of  1799,  he  ?ippearo  to  liuve  lived  with  his 
father  at  Hanover,  in  great  harmony.  He  had  the  chief 
management  of  the  old  gentleman*s  farm,  and  other  tem- 
poral concerns.  Towards  the  latter  part  of  this  terra, 
they  commenced  the  building  of  a  large  house ;  and  like 
many  others  who  undertake  to  build,  they  did  not  count 
the  cost,  and  became  embarrassed.  This  caused  uneasi- 
ness and  n^utual  crimination,  which  finally  ended  in  an 
open  rupture  and  separation.  During  this  period  of  more 
than  three  years,  the  parents  seem  to  have  taken  great 
c6mfort  and  satisfaction  in  their  son  and  his  rising  family. 
This  satisfaction  was  expressed  by  his  tather  in  various  let- 
ters to  his  friends,  as  well  as  by  his  conduct  towards  his 
children.  He  encouraged  and  assisted  his  son  in  the  pub- 
lication of  his  Memoirs ;  and  maintained  that  he  had  a 
right  to  justify  himself,  as  far  as  he  was  able,  before  an  im- 
partial public.  The  Reverend  Sire  had  been  a  member 
of  the  ^oard  of  Trustees  of  Dartmouth  College,  before 
the  son  joined  thM  institution  ;  which  office  he  still  holds, 
^with  credit 'to  himself  and  the  College.  He  is  a  man  of 
great  benevolenc^,  piety,  and  zeal;  and  does  hoiior  to  his 
profession.  His  mother  is  equally  amiable.  As  a  proof 
of  the  good  understanding  between  these  families,  I  take 
the  liberty  to  publish  one  of  the  father's  letters,  receiv- 
ed during  this  period. 


146  APPENDIX. 

«  Hanover,  (JV.H,)  Jjiril  7,  1798. 
«  Mr  Dear  Sir, 

"  The  motive  of  gratitude,  under  a  sense  of  your  kind 
attention  to  my  son  in  the  matters  which  he  has  commit- 
ted to  your  care  and  trust,  as  also  your  expressions  and 
acts  of  benevolence  to  him  in  scenes  through  which  he  has 
passed  in  former  years,  has  lain  with  weight  upon  my 
mind ;  and  I  have  often  felt  the  force  of  it  to  such  a  de- 
gree, that  to  suppress  its  emotions,  I  have  found  to  be  a 
work  of  painful  self  denial.  Had  I  felt  a  confidence  that 
presenting  my  thanks  in  this  account  could  have  been  re- 
garded by  you  as  any  thin^  of  an  adecfuate  return,  my 
warmest  professions  of  gratitude  would  have  waited  upon 
you  long  before  this.  In  your  communications  to  my  son 
received  this  day,  we  are  both  comforted  by  the  leaven  of 
friendship >and  benevolence,  Aviih  ^rhich  your  letters  are 
ever  tempered.  I  am,  Sir,  especially  pleased  with  your 
remarks  upon  the  book  he  has  published.  .  I  am  ever  sen- 
sible that  a  true  friend  will  be  always  as  severe  in  censur- 
ing the  failings  of  his  friend,  as  he  would  be  tender  ot  his 
character.  Your  readiness  for  this  is  a  circumstance  that 
establishes  my  confidence  in  you,  and  cloatbs  you  with  a 
character  opposite  to  the  deceitful,  unmeaning,  vile  flat- 
terer. Upon  attending  to  certain  queries  contained  in 
your  letter,  I  am  apprehensive  that  the  laws  of  delicacy, 
and  perhaps  your  own  satisfaction,  would  require  that  an 
answer  to  them  shbuld  be  stated  by  me  rather  than  by  him. 
To  give  you  then  a  history  of  my  son's  present  situation, 
I^feel  myself  in  no  danger  of  transgressing  the  bounds  of 
candor  and  moderation  by  informing  you,  that,  during  the 
time  he  has  resided  with  me  (which  is  about  two  years 
and  a  half)  he  has  conducted  to  my  good  acceptance.  As 
an  evidence  of  my  confidence  in  him,  I  have  committed 
to  his  care  the  whole  management  of  my  temporal  affairs  ; 
and  have  hitherto  been  well  satisfied  as  to  the  wisdom, 
propriety  and  economy  of  his  management ;  as  also  with 
the  dutiful  and  affectionate  temper  with  which  he  has  at- 
tended to  and  treated  his  parents.  I  am  confident  that  in 
this  testimony  I  speak  the*  established  sentiments  of  our 


APPENDIX.  147 

neighborhocKl  and  acquaintances  as  well  as  my  o^fn.  I 
know  the  benevolence  of  your  heart  will  constrain  you  to 
rejoice  with  me  and  on  my  behalf.  I  wish,  Sir,  I  might 
rejoice  with  that  trembling  which  always  becomes  a  de-  * 
pendant  creature.  For  this  purpose,  suffer  me,  my  dear 
jf  ir,  to  remind  you  of  a  debt  we  shall  ever  mutually  owe 
'to  each  other,  to  ask  for  that  grace  which  may  guard  us 
from  every  evil,  and  preserve  us  in  safety  to  the  kingdom 
of  glory.  May  Mrs.  Burroughs'  compliments  be  accep- 
table to  you  and  your  lady,  together  with  those  of,  Sir, 
your  affectionate  Iriend,  and  humble  servant, 

EDEN  BURROUGHS.", 

About  a  yeat  afler  the  date  of  this  letter^  a  sense  of  pro- 
priety and  duty  obliged  the  disappointed  and  dejected 
father  to  notify  this  same  friend,  that  he  had  lost  all  coafi- 
dence  in  his  son  ;  and  cautioned  him  against  any  further 
recommendation.  This,  he  says,  he  is  "  constrained, 
though  with  the  utmost  grief  and  sorrow  of  heart,  to  do, 
as  an  act  of  justice,"  &c. 

The  son  soon  departed  for  Canada,  as  before  stated. . 
Foi*  several  years  he  gave  great  encouragement  to  bis 
friends,  that  he  might' still  be  a  useful  member  of  society. 
But,  alas  1  bow  have  their  hopes  been  blasted  I  Common 
fame  says,  that  several  of  his  last  years  have  been  assidu- 
ously employed  in  counterfeiting  bills  of  the  various  banks 
of  the  United  States  ;  that  he  has  been  in  prison  at  Mon- 
treal and  at  Quebec.  But  it  is  hazardous  to  state  any 
thing  with  certainty  relative  to  this  extraordinary  man. 
It  is  not  long  since,  that  two  of  the  Cashiers  of  certain 
Banks  in  Boston  received  each  a  letter  of  similar  import, 
signed  Stephen  Burroughs,  stating  that  he  had  been  a 
month  in  that  town,  engaged  with  a  company  of  counter- 
feiters ;  that  several  of  their  own  bills  had  been  nicely  imi- 
tated ;  but  that  there  was  so  little  honor  among  the  con- 
cern, he  was  determined  to  expose  them  ;  and  then  calls 
a  number  of  their  names,  and  warns  the  Banks  of  their 
danger.  Upon  comparing  these  letters  with  Burroughs' 
hand  writing,  there  was  no  sirr^ilarity  between  them  I 


143  APPENDIX. 

It  is  believed  that  Burroughs  resides  at  present,  with 
his  family,  ■«  a  place  called  Shifitor^  in  Lower  Canada.* 
Whether  he  still  continues  to  labor  in  the  line  of  his  pro- 
fession, or  whether  a  late  law  of  the  Province  has  checked 
him  in  his  mad  career,  is  unknown  to  the  writer.  [1811.] 
^ . 1 -f 

*  A  correspondent  of  the  publisher  informs,  that  Mr.  Burroughs 
resides  at  a  place  called  Three  ^ivera^  in  Lower  Canada,  an^  is  at 
present  engag-ed  in  teaching  a  school.  [^1812.] 


1^. 


^ 


w 


~^; 


